Neteryt
by MoonlightDewz
Summary: Ptolemy belongs to Bartimaeus. BartimaeusXPtolemy
1. Chapter 1

Neteryt

Written by MoonlightDewz

Summary - Ptolemy belongs to Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus/Ptolemy

Disclaimer - Bartimaeus, Ptolemy, and the Bartimaeus trilogy belong to Jonathan Stroud. The song Gravity of Love belongs to Enigma and Michael Crétu. I am making no profit on this fanfiction except the nice reviews I hope to receive.

Author's Note - Heylo, MoonlightDewz here and I have finally finished reading the Batimaeus Trilogy, so please beware of spoilers for the books in this story.

This fanfiction will most likely be a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews, and enough ideas in my head, I may try to continue the story, somehow.

Also, this story is a yaoi so if you don't like it, then you may not want to read any farther.

Alright, now let's get started.

Turn around and smell what you don't see  
Close your eyes ... it is so clear

Ptolemy was a good master and a good magician.

Even though, by definition, the only good magician was a dead one, Ptolemy was a good master.

He was noble, smart, and kind.

He had his faults, but his good endowments outweighed the bad.

He was a friend, a confidant, and a lover.

He was all these things, and because of that, he was owned as firmly as any demon, djinni, or spirit.

The master belonged to his servant, his slave, his Rekhyt.

Ptolemy belonged to Bartimaeus.

From the first time the djinni touched his master's skin, to the first kiss, and the first Egyptian night, Ptolemy belonged to Bartimaeus.

My master belonged to me.

I can still remember the first time I touched him. Just touched his dark tan skin and felt it under my fingertips.

It was strange for me, almost a new experience. None of the magicians that I had had before had let me come within a few feet of them, no matter how tightly they had me under their control, let alone touch them.

Ptolemy was different.

Here's the mirror, behind there is a screen  
On both ways you can get in  
Don't think twice before you listen to your heart  
Follow the trace for a new start

When he first summoned me, asking me questions about the Other Place, I had lied. I lied because I thought that he was trying to trick me somehow. I believed that the only reason for his curiosity was to find new ways to enslave and torture other spirits and myself. I didn't know that the Other Place fascinated him, so after I realized that he wasn't trying to use my own information against me, I began to tell the truth.

Ptolemy knew that I had begun to trust him, so he let me out of my pentacle and we talked. He'd ask questions; I'd answer, truthfully, to the best of my knowledge. His dark eyes would light up when I spoke and I would smile despite myself.

After all, it was nice to have someone hang on my every word. No human, and a large amount of spirits for that matter, had ever listened to what I said so closely, and as I watched him watching me I began wondering what it would be like to touch him. 1 (Completely innocent.)

What would it be like to run my fingers against his shoulder or side? What would it be like to hold him? What would it be like to feel my lips against his? 2 (Okay, maybe not so innocent but on a side note, most spirits would not think these things about humans, especially their masters. Sure, there may be an instance or two when a spirit will remark about a humans looks, but that about as far as it goes. Don't get any ideas.)

I wondered and that when I realized something.

I was attracted to my master.

I was attracted to a girly-looking, thin to the point of being scrawny, sorcerer-child.

A boy king.

A godling.

I hadn't even touched him in a friendly way yet. 3 (Okay I know how this looks but things were different in that time. People were married soon and had children early and often because they may not live to see their 20th birthday. Yes, Ptolemy was fourteen but, if he had been interested in the things he "should" have been, namely wives and the kingdom, he would have been married to a nice Egyptian girl and be expecting his first child. So stop looking at me like that.)

Of course, when I realized that I was attracted, both physically and emotionally, to Ptolemy, I nearly flung myself out the window. Spirits are not suppose to be attracted to humans, let alone their masters. 4 (See footnote 2) At first, I tried to convince myself that I was wrong, that my master had bad qualities that greatly outnumbered his good qualities, and that I shouldn't care about him. Some of these bad qualities included things such as his thin frame, or his black almost shoulder length girly hair, or his incessant need to know everything. However, try as I might I couldn't stop thinking of how beautiful he was, how kind his heart was, how, every time I was near him, I felt pleasantly warm and comfortable.

What you need and everything you'll feel  
Is just a question of the deal  
In the eye of storm you'll see a lonely dove  
The experience of survival is the key  
To the gravity of love

So, it just so happened that a couple of days after I had been let to roam "free" outside of my pentacle, I decided I wanted to touch Ptolemy, just to see how he would react. For all I knew, even though he hadn't done anything to me in ways of punishment before, he could have banished me back to the pentacle and subject me to a number of magical tortures, just for having the courage to lay my hand on him.

The first time I touched him was at sunset, in his bedchambers and I had taken the form of a young man, older then Ptolemy, late teens with burgundy hair, tan skin, and yellow eyes. He had turned his back to me and, I'm not entirely sure what happened myself, but I must have reached out because my fingers were suddenly rested on Ptolemy's thin, bare shoulder. My touch was light and gentle, but he felt it and stopped. Then, he turned his head and looked at me with one of his slender, kol-lined, deep, dark eyes, and I froze up.

The way he looked at me, it was as if I had caught the attention of a very powerful marid who would like to swallow me whole. Ptolemy's eyes were so deep I felt that if I tripped or faltered I would drown. If I had any breath I would have held it in fear of upsetting the being that could crush me like a bug. I felt pinned, like a butterfly to a board and as I went to move my hand away so I could escape, my master spoke.

"What's wrong Rekhyt?" he asked, his voice soft and questioning, "Why do you look so amazed, have you never touched human flesh before?"

He didn't say it to sound smart. He wasn't being snide with his comment. He was really, truly asking me if I had never touched a human before, I could see it in his dark eyes.

I relaxed, my fingers gently running a little ways down his shoulder, feeling his warm, soft, tan skin. My eyes focused on my fingers and the curve of Ptolemy's shoulder. I spoke.

"Not so tenderly," I whispered, my fingers ever moving, feeling my master's life flowing inside of him, "Most of the contact I've had with humans is because I had an order to rip a hole in them."

Ptolemy sighed, and it wasn't a sigh of frustration or tiredness, but one of comfort, pleasure and as he turned his head to look out the window, I noticed that he did not pull away from me.

"I have asked so many questions of you, Rekhyt," he said, "Yet you must be curious about this world has well. Is there anything you would like to know?"

I nodded.

I had questions, so many questions, but I wasn't sure how to voice them to my master.

Why do I want to hold you in my arms right now and taste your throat with my lips?

Why is it that my desire for you has ensnared me?

Why am I in love with you?

Why?

Why?

Why?

"Why did you choose me?" I whispered, keeping myself from leaning down so I wouldn't do something I may regret.

"I chose you because you are spirited." My master said, "Your soul has not been broken by others and I felt that you would tell me what I wanted to know, not what I wanted to hear."

I nodded again, understanding his words. He wanted someone to tell him the truth, not what they thought would make him happy.

He continued, almost to low for me to hear, "I also…"

He didn't finish his sentence, his words trailing away as he sighed again, and this sigh was from exhaustion.

By now the sun had set and I pulled my hand away. I had many more questions, but they were ones I was going to have to work out for myself, and I could tell that Ptolemy was tired.

"I'll go keep watch." I said, and then turned toward the window. I saw Ptolemy nod out of the corner of my eye and as I began to move, I saw his hand come up and rest on his shoulder.

The one I had touched.

Changing into a lapwing, the bird flew through the window and perched on the roof, the moonlight reflected off its feathers. Had it been able to sigh, it would have.

I had a lot of thinking to do.

The path of excess leads to  
The tower of Wisdom  
The path of excess leads to  
The tower of Wisdom

The night I was going to leave for the army campaign, I sat with Ptolemy on the roof and he apologized to me for having to send me to the battlefield. I took the whole thing in stride, or at least I tried to. Out of all the other spirits my master commanded I was the strongest and the fastest, not to mention the most clever. 5 (Okay, maybe not but at least I was resourceful.) I would be the one to most likely survive, but that didn't make leaving any easier.

"Penrenutet will protect me while you are gone, have no fear." My master said to ease me, but I still worried.

For while I did believe that the other spirits could protect Ptolemy for the small amount of time I'd be gone, I feared what would happen to my master should I not return.

How long could the others protect him if I was dead?

Also, while Ptolemy would summon others in the case that I didn't come back, how could he be sure they wouldn't tear him limb from limb?

To many chances that something would happen, so many ifs. I didn't want to go.

"Now-see, they are lighting the watch fire on the tower." My master said, as I watched the moonlight shine against his form, it made his skin glow white, "The fleet is massing below. You must depart."

But I'd go for him.

"Alright then." I said, shifting my form from the loin that was on the roof to the young man with yellow eyes.

I was leaving, but I wanted to do one thing before I left, and I needed to resemble a human to do it. After all, I wasn't sure if I'd come back alive.

Ptolemy turned to look at me as I changed and stood, and holding out my hand, I helped him to his feet. My master's hands were thin and soft from writing and bookwork. He was no warrior with weapon calloused hands, or a farmer that had hands that were as tough as leather, just his small, warm, lithe hands with his gentle fingers.

How would he be safe without me to protect him?

I didn't let go of his hand.

I just looked at him, and his lithe frame and dark eyes and soft heart.

"Rekhyt?" He questioned me, and as I watched him watching me I threw caution to the wind and went with my plan.

I pulled him towards me and kissed him.

It was a soft kiss, quick and chaste, and sweet, but it was what I wanted. I pulled away slowly and backed away. I didn't look at him then, I was afraid that I might see something I didn't want to. I just turned on my heel and ran. I think I may have said goodbye as I ran to the edge of the roof, changing into a lapwing as I neared the edge, but I can't remember.

Try to think about it ...  
That's the chance to live your life and discover  
What it is, what's the gravity of love

When I returned, alive and victorious in my yellow-eyed disguise, I was almost fearful of what I would find. My bold actions on the roof had caused me to worry about my master's reaction. Ptolemy did not look angry when he had spoken to me with his orb nearing the end of the war, but it could have been a ruse. My master could have been hiding his discomfort from me so I wouldn't worry anymore then I had already, so I was still uncomfortable when I walked into his workroom.

The first thing I noticed when I saw him was that Ptolemy looked tired, as if he hadn't slept for a few nights. I sighed and shook my head. This was another reason I should have stayed; my master needed someone to keep an eye on him, just to make sure he wasn't working himself to death.

However, despite his weariness he still looked beautiful to me, and he greeted me with the same amount of enthusiasm as always and asked how my trip of the world had gone. My fears were erased as I told him about all the places I had seen and he told me about what he had been doing while I was gone, his dark eyes lighting up the same way as they had always done.

It was only when he started talking about the gateway and dismissing me that I stopped him.

He said that the gateway was a gesture, a redress.

I said that he didn't need to take so much on himself.

He said he wanted to.

He hoped to change the world.

I hoped he was right.

He went to speak the dismissal, and I stopped him.

"It's late," I said, putting my fingers on his shoulders, just enough of a presence that got his attention yet didn't restrain him in anyway, "If you will, please dismiss me tomorrow."

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to leave him unprotected, especially now that the other spirits were gone. I wanted to stay with him.

He almost protested, almost finished the dismissal, almost made me go, but his heart was kind. He couldn't force me away, not when I had asked him the way I had.

So he nodded and sighed.

I expected him to pull away, possibly just turn away from me, but he didn't, he stayed where he was and was silent for a moment, before he spoke again.

"I have a question for you, my friend," he said, a look on his face that I hadn't seen on him before. It was a look of question and confusion but also of sadness and perhaps some hope. Ptolemy was going to ask a question, and he was afraid of the answer. He didn't know if he wanted to hear what I said in reply to his question.

I had a feeling I knew what his question was, but I nodded anyway.

Quietly, his dark eyes searching my face, he asked,

"Why did you kiss me?"

Locking my eyes with his, I answered in all seriousness,

"Because I wanted to."

My answer seemed to please him because he smiled, his eyes lighting up again, and he reached for me.

My hands moved to gently tip and support his head and as his arms wrapped around my neck, I kissed him.

The last kiss we had shared had been quick, but this one was not. I went slowly at first, gently brushing my lips against his, tasting him, getting him use to the feeling. He sighed against my lips, and I used my free arm to hold his lithe, beautiful body against me. I could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed and his heart beat steadily rose as he open his mouth for me and I slipped my tongue in.

I could feel his soft, small fingers curl into my hair, trying to keep me there as I shifted my hold and lifted him so we could move to the bed. We both knew how this night would end, because, now that we had stepped off the edge, we wouldn't be able to climb our way out alone.

Locked like this, we fell as one on to the bed, soon to be entangled in the silk sheets. He was on his back and I was on my side, pressed against him, and when I broke the kiss and he breathed I asked him,

"Would you like me in another form?"

I wanted to make him comfortable with me. If he wanted me to be something else, say female, I would be happy to oblige. I wanted him to be happy.

He shook his head, his arms still wrapped around my neck.

"I want you to chose your own form, don't change if you don't want to."

I smiled then, and Ptolemy asked,

"My friend, you are not in any pain are you? Would you like me to dismiss you?"

I had been away from the Other Place for quite sometime, but I shook my head. My essence did ache a bit, but Ptolemy made the pain sweet.

"Dismiss me tomorrow," I whispered seductively into his ear, "Let me make love to you tonight."

My master shuddered and breathed as I leaned over him and as I claimed his lips once more, I played with the laces of his clothing.

After some gentle tugging, the cloth gave way and after breaking away so Ptolemy could breath, 6 (It might have been mentioned before that I have no need to breathe, since I use magical means to keep my essence alive and to speak) I ran my fingers lightly against his warm bare shoulders, reminding me of the first time I touched him.

My master's arms had loosed from my neck and his thin, soft hands gripped the front of my shirt as I caressed him. I bent down and kissed his vulnerable throat, and he gasped faintly and pulled me down to him, our bodies connecting again.

I had never thought of hurting Ptolemy before. The idea of injuring him or worse had never crossed my mind, including the time that I had spent lying to him. But he had mentioned the fact that I could harm him before, and it made me realize how easy it would be to murder him right at that moment.

He was pinned under me, my teeth were at his throat, I could sense the way his life flowed under his skin. It would have been so easy to take his life, to keep him from moving as I ripped out his throat and spilled blood all across those pretty silk sheets.

The very thought of it sickened me, but there was something oddly alluring to the vulnerability of the situation.

The sun had set and Ptolemy's head was tipped up, exposing his throat, which was white, slender, fragile. I tasted him with my lips and tongue and as he mewed against me I realized how much trust he was putting in me. Sure it was no gateway; my master could possibly fight back if I gave him a slight chance, but the fact that he was willingly letting me get this close to him was proof of his trust.

I tried to keep my touch light as I dipped my kisses lower to his collarbone and his hands somehow found their way under my shirt. His fingers were warm and gentle against my stomach, and I vaguely wondered if the bedroom door was locked. If either of us started screaming, I don't think my master would be pleased with being interrupted by a nameless servant. 7 (Needless to say anything about my own feeling on that matter. Anyone feeling up to servant flambé?)

As the night wore on and I undressed him inch by painful inch, I memorized him. With teeth, lips, and tongue, my hands gliding over him, I vowed I'd never forget him. I would remember him the way he was, right at that moment, for as long as my essence remained.

When it was over, he lay softly upon the bed, and I whispered comforting words to him to dull the pain. He sighed in pleasure, his skin warm against mine and his soul sated. His dark eyes were soft and half-lidded, and as he smiled, content and beautiful, I fell in love with him all over again.

I kissed him tenderly once more before he fell asleep. I stayed with him all the next morning until he dismissed me, and this time, I went willingly. The last I saw of him was his serene face just before I was pulled away.

Look around just people, can you hear their voice  
Find the one who'll guide you to the limits of your choice

The next time I saw him it was in the Other Place, which is rather strange in its self. I had heard him call my name, and I went to him, rather happily I might add. When I found him, he was trying to mold his soul into something to give himself a sense of self. His creation was very, artistic, and I couldn't help but laugh internally at it.

He hadn't noticed me at this point, to busy trying to form himself and take in the Other Place all at once. It was rather amusing to watch him, but when he started calling my name again, an almost worried look on his "face", I smiled and positioned most of myself "behind" him.

_I'm here._ I thought, parts of my essence coming to become intertwined with his soul, a gentle touch.

_Where?_ He questioned, not yet noticing the way I curled around and inside of him.

_All around you_. I thought to him, _I am you and you are me._

I felt his soul smile and I warped myself into a slightly more recognizable shape. 8 (At least, I made myself stand out from all the other "blobs" around me; I was still rather liquid like.)

He turned then, and his "face" proved my early feeling. He was smiling, and his dark eyes that he never seemed to lose, shone brightly.

_It's so wonderful here._ He thought, moving his "arms" to indicate the "landscape", _I can understand now why you all like coming back here._

_Yes,_ I nodded, _It is very peaceful here_.

Ptolemy looked around for a moment, and then thought again, _So, there is no fighting?_

_There is no one to fight with,_ I thought, _We are all one here._

_Including me?_

_Including you._

He breathed, _There are so many questions I want to ask, my friend._

We talked then, he asked and I answered, all the while my essence flowed around and caressed him, and when he had his answers, he asked me one more question.

_B-Bartimaeus,_ he thought, _What is happening to me?_

_What do you mean?_ I asked, as his soul slid against and mixed with my essence.

He sighed and relaxed as I came up to "hold" him, _I feel so peaceful here,_ he thought to me, _I don't know if I want to go back._

I shook my head, but held him tighter.

_You cannot stay here to long,_ I thought, _If you stay, you will not have a body to return to._ 9 (Oh, if only I had known what would happen to him, I would have kept him with me.)

_I know,_ he replied, _But I enjoy feeling my soul merge with yours, I feel so close to you._

I smiled, and he felt my happiness.

_We are truly one now,_ I whispered, _But you must go back now, before its to late._

He nodded and sent me one finally thought.

_I will summon you when I return to my body._

_I shall be waiting._ I replied.

Then, he was gone.

But if you're in the eye of storm  
Just think of the lonely dove  
The experience of survival is the key  
To the gravity of love.

After that, things just went down hill. My master had stayed in the Other Place far to long and he was unbearably weak. The other spirits and myself tried to do our best for him, but his body had begun to die while his soul was gone. A part of me wondered that, if he could separate his soul from his body one more time, he may have been able to saved his soul, if not his body.

However, he was much to weak, and then that final attack came.

I tried to protect him. I was willing to use up the rest of my essence if it meant that I could save him, but I was injured and I tried to barricade the both of us inside a nearby temple.

I made a mistake.

The temple had no other windows or doors, I was injured, and Ptolemy, my master, my friend, my lover, was dying on the cold marble floor, the blood I had never wanted to see staining the white.

This temple would not be a sanctuary. It would be a tomb.

I had sealed our fate, but I wasn't about to give up without a fight.

Then, Ptolemy began to talk about dismissing me so that I could live. When the attacking spirits broke in, they would kill anything that got in their way, including me. Ptolemy wanted to send me away.

I didn't take it well. I growled and argued, I fought against his wishes.

I said I didn't want to go.

He said it was the only way.

I refused.

He said I didn't have a choice.

I could never win an argument with Ptolemy and I knew it.

So, before the other spirits broke down the temple door, as the door swelled and became deformed with heat, Ptolemy raised his hand and I changed into my yellow-eyed human.

"Don't!" I said as I took his hand.

I had one chance, one moment before the end of my world, one moment before I lost Ptolemy forever.

I held his hand, my other arm wrapped around him, and as I looked into his dark eyes, the eyes that held a deep wisdom and were so kind, I said,

"But I love you, Ptolemy."

He smiled then, weakly but content, and as I felt his blood running down my arm I knew his life was draining away. I bent close then, holding him gently against me, and I heard him whisper,

"I love you to."

I kissed him one more time and then the doors burst open, I changed and turned as a loin, Ptolemy spoke the dismissal, and I was ripped away from him.

When I appeared in the Other Place I tried everything I could think of to get back to my master. 10 (As a footnote, this is the only time I tried to do so, usually I had to be forced to leave the Other Place.) I pushed and pulled, I raged against the magic that kept me bound, and finally, when I could not escape, when I could not break free, I screamed. I screamed until my essence grew sore and the Other Place screamed with me. The world around me shook and trembled, and it was hopeless.

I couldn't get free.

I couldn't get back to Ptolemy.

He had been murdered, and I couldn't save him.

In the end, I believe that it was our love that killed him. Ptolemy's cousin possibly new how much I cared for my master, how I would murder thousands if it would keep him safe, and that sparked an un rational fear into the man. In his paranoia he thought that Ptolemy would overthrow him and rule with me as his guardian.

Ptolemy loved me so much; he was willing to save me from death if he could, even if that meant giving up his own life.

The spirits, the gateway, his cousin, they didn't kill Ptolemy.

I did.

That's why I wear his form, why I look the way he did before the gateway, I'm reminding myself of how much I loved him, and how that love killed him.

I will never forget and I will never make the same mistake twice.

My master belonged to me, and I lost him.

Neteryt (Egyptian) - Belonging To The God

Please review (smiles)


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I said that if I got enough ideas then I would continue the story and it seems like my mind doesn't want to stop coming up with ideas. So here is chapter two of Neteryt.

Yay! (smiles)

Now, some of you might be wondering how I can continue this story when Ptolemy has died. How does everyone feel about reincarnation? (evil smile)

Disclaimer - Bartimaeus, Ptolemy, Kitty, Nathaniel and the Bartimaeus trilogy belong to Jonathan Stroud. The song You Remind Me belongs to Mandy Moore, E. Cremonesi, P. Aaron and R. Safinia. I am making no profit on this fanfiction except the nice reviews I hope to, and have, received.

Thank you to Kjesta, Maiden of the Moon, Lady Merlin, and Crystal for reviewing my story. I wouldn't have continued writing this fanfiction if it wasn't for you.

Also, I will be posting replies to reviews on my bio page for now, so please check my main fanfiction page because I will remove the replies to past chapters when I post a new chapter. Thank you.

Now, onward!

Chapter Two

_When I first saw you I couldn't believe  
The way you smiled took the breath out of me  
And maybe I'm seeing things  
But if it's true don't wake me up from this dream_

I lost Ptolemy, and because of that I promised myself that I would not make the same mistake twice. In the depths of the Other Place, I vowed that I would not fall in love with my master again. If I ever saw Ptolemy again, physically, spirit, or otherwise, I would not fall in love.

I had kept my promise. I had gone through two thousand years and I had not felt any attraction to any human. Yes, a comfortable feeling did spark in me when I was with Kitty and Nathaniel, but it was just friendship, nothing more.

However, none of that mattered now. Kitty was living the rest of her life, Nathaniel was dead, crushed by Nouda, and I floated in the Other Place, remembering.

I had been remembering a lot as of late. Snatches of memory would play through my mind as I rested with the other spirits. Nathaniel, Kitty, the escapades we had gone through, but mostly Ptolemy. Most of my memories that played out had been of Ptolemy.

I wasn't sure why. Ptolemy had been dead for two thousand years, why was I remembering now? Why was I still wearing his face? I knew I was torturing myself. I should have just blocked the memories. After all, I couldn't change my memories. I couldn't change the past. I couldn't keep Ptolemy from going through the gate. I couldn't save him.

I'm not sure how many years I spent in the Other Place after Nathaniel's death, but when I felt the familiar tug in my essences, I knew I was being summoned. 1 (If I had known the pain my essences was going to go through, I would have murdered the summoner with my own hands as soon as I had a chance.)

I was taken from my home, from my fellow spirits, and when I appeared in a pentacle I automatically looked down to see if there was a way to escape my new prison.

Then, a women's voice spoke, a voice I remembered,

"Hello, Bartimaeus."

_You remind me  
Of a love i knew  
Feels so real it must be deja vu  
You remind me  
But I ain't got a clue  
Boy I'm so glad I found you_

I looked to the side and saw an English woman, possibly in her late thirties with light skin and black hair, smiling at me.

"Hello, Kitty," I said, an almost smile forming on my mouth. She looked well, or as well as anyone that has been to the Other Place has looked. After her soul had returned to her body after using the gate, her body had been weaken, just like Ptolemy's had been, but as I looked her over she seemed to be fine. She looked like a regular, healthy woman, and I was happy for her. I looked at her feet, where I expected to see a pentacle. I blinked when I saw plain wood.

Kitty Jones trusted me, she didn't need a pentacle to protect herself from me, but she did need some kind of pentacle to summon.

At the look on my face she told me that she hadn't summoned me, her son had.

I turned to look at this child, and came face to face with the boy whose face I wore.

Fourteen, tan skin, dark eyes, lithe, dark almost shoulder length hair, it was all there.

Ptolemy.

_I never thought I could love again  
Then you came and changed something within (I'm so confused)  
I'm so confused 'case you're not the same  
But there's something special that reminds me_

I tried to keep the surprise from my face, but I couldn't stop myself from taking a small step back, the back of my foot almost touching the pentacle line. Ptolemy, my Ptolemy was dead, weaken by the gate and then murdered by his cousin's assassins. This couldn't have been the magician I had known, couldn't be the one I had kissed, couldn't be the one I…

It wasn't. This child did not know me. There was no recognition in his eyes; no sign that he and I had met before in another time, perhaps even another life.

I looked at Kitty, my eyes wider then I would have liked, and blurted the first thing that came out of my mouth,

"He's not your son."

Kitty's eyes narrowed, a disbelieving look on her face, I clamped my mouth shut. Why had I said that? I suppose at the time I was just so stunned at seeing the image of a boy who had been dead for thousands of years, but my words were way below par for witty banter.

Kitty had a comeback.

"Bartimaeus, how could you say that," she said, not sounding hurt, just angry, "Of course he's my son, I gave birth to him."

My mouth kept going.

"Don't lecture me, Miss Jones," I said, standing straight, my tone clipped, "It's just that he doesn't really look like you."

"He takes after his father." She said, and that was the end of our conversation according to her.

I opened my mouth, to ask who the boy's father was, but then closed it. There had been a sorrowful expression on Kitty's face after she had said "father" and I understood what was wrong. The "father" wasn't around. Whether through death or disloyalty, he was no longer a part of their lives.

There is pain in memories, I am more sure of that then almost anyone.

I knew when to keep quite.

I turned away from her.

"I'm sorry." I said, quietly, and the conversation was over.

She sighed. Had she been the one to summon me she may have dismissed me out of anger, but since it was her son, she could do nothing.

"It's alright," she said, waving her hand as if my apology was in the air, "You didn't know, Bartimaeus, besides, it's not important."

I nodded. I was being childish, everyone in the room knew it, so I pushed my memories to the back of my mind, faced the child, and cleared my throat.

"Name your desire, mortal." I said, trying to focus my eyes on the wall behind Kitty's son. I felt that if I looked at him I would collapse into a pile inside the pentacle.

Kitty may have some bad memories, but mine were worse. There was no need to fray my emotions anymore then they already were by looking at the doppelganger of the boy I hadn't been able to save.

_It's the way you walk and  
The way you talk and  
You really got style  
It's the way you move and  
The way you groove and  
I love your smile (I love your smile)_

Then, for the first time since I had been summoned into the room, the boy who looked like Ptolemy spoke,

"Djinni," he said, "Answer me a question."

It was the same. When my Ptolemy had summoned me the first time, he had said the same thing. This boy, his words, his voice, they caught me off guard, and then I made the mistake of looking at his face. I wanted to see if they were his own words, that he wasn't just repeating my lover's words.

I looked at his face, then into his deep, ebony eyes, and I knew. His words were sincere, and my knees almost buckled. I couldn't stand this. I had to escape, somehow. I couldn't stand the copy of my Ptolemy watching me as I watched him, not in the same way.

I spoke, trying to keep my voice sturdy, but it was hard. Not when he had those eyes, that form. 2 (I am so glad I never went into detail with Kitty about how much I had loved Ptolemy. If I had told her, I don't know how my meeting with her son would have gone.)

"Speak." I stated, wishing that he would hurry so I could be dismissed. I wanted to run away. For the first time in my memory, I wanted to leave Ptolemy alone. But that wasn't right, this was not Ptolemy. It wasn't.

For my own well being he, luckily, didn't as what my essence was, instead he said,

"My name is Ptolemy N. Jones, what would you like me to call you?"

I had meant to say Bartimaeus, I really did. I wanted to keep my reality and my memories separate, I hadn't wanted this child to call me by the name my Ptolemy used. But my tongue was treacherous, and before I had a chance to stop myself, I said,

"Rekhyt. Call me Rekhyt."

I saw a flash of recognition cross Kitty's face at my answer, but she suppressed it. Her son had requested what I wanted him to call me, and she could not interfere. 3 (I just hoped she wouldn't think to deeply about my past.)

_You remind me  
Of a love I knew  
Feels so real it must be deja vu  
You remind me  
But I ain't got a clue  
Boy I'm so glad I found you_

I didn't find it surprising that Kitty's son had told me his full name. After all, Kitty trusted me enough not to stand in a pentacle while I was being summoned, I would think that her son had that same trust.

I wouldn't hurt him. I couldn't, not when he looked like…

There would be no blood spilt across silk sheets from this child. Not if I could help it.

"Rekhyt?" Kitty's Ptolemy questioned as he smiled softly, "That is a good name, lapwing."

I nodded, and looked down where I studied my hands, the hands that, at the moment, where my Ptolemy's. I changed into my yellow-eyed human without thinking. It wouldn't have made a difference to the boy in front of me, but I felt, strange, using Ptolemy's form when I was in the child's presence.

I didn't think it would matter to the boy, but, for some reason, it did.

He started staring at me with his deep eyes. His back was completely straight and when I looked back at him, I felt like his gaze would swallow me. My fingers twitched.

I wanted to touch him. He wasn't mine. He had never been mine and would never be mine, but I wanted to touch him anyway.

Trapped by his eyes my hand moved, lifted, slowly reached. Then, just when I thought that I might be able to except this new master, the tips of fingers hit the pentacle's barrier. The barrier flashed a translucent blue, power racing through it, and a shot of sharp pain went up my arm. I hissed and pulled my hand back.

The sorcerer-child blinked, and the spell was broken.

"Are you alright, Rekhyt?" he asked, his face a worried mask, his own soft, thin hand lifting.

I held my hand against my chest, my head down, chin to my chest. I backed away from him and Kitty intervened.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today." She said, coming over to her son.

I couldn't touch him. I had promised myself. I wouldn't fall in love. Not again.

"Dismiss me." I said, wanting to curl into a ball and sob. I couldn't take any of this. I wanted to be gone. I never wanted to see either of these humans again.

"Now, Bartimaeus…" Kitty said, sounding kind, trying to console me.

I didn't want pity or kindness, I didn't want to be consoled, I just wanted to be gone.

"Dismiss me!" I said again, louder this time, just before my voice cracked.

Kitty and her son most likely took my outburst as anger so, before I sank to the floor, Ptolemy, the fake, copy, doppelganger Ptolemy, spoke the dismissal and I was gone.

_I, I cannot figure out  
I ain't got a clue  
I'm so confused about how i feel  
Cause I'm really feelin' you  
_

As I floated in the Other Place, most likely a few human days later, I tried not to think, tried not to remember.

That body, those hands, those eyes, that voice.

Ptolemy.

Had I been able to sob in the Other Place I would have done so, but since I couldn't, I twisted my essence until it was almost painful for me, and stayed like that.

Why did I have to be summoned by him? Why, after all this time, after all the pain, was I dragged into the human world just to see his face? Why was I falling in love again?

My heart ached, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Then, I felt another summoning tug and let it take me. I was so hurt, much to tired. I felt broken, and when I landed inside the pentacle, I didn't ever bother sitting up. I just lay there, keeping far away from the pentacle lines, not caring what form my essence had taken or whether or not the magician who summoned me would torture me. Maybe, if he thought I was useless, he'd just send me back.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

_It's the way you walk and  
The way you talk and  
You really got style  
It's the way you move and  
The way you groove and  
I love your smile (I love your smile)  
_

The room was dark, clouded moonlight shone in from a window and as I lay curled, I noticed I was in someone's bedroom. My summoner sat in his pentacle, his legs crossed like a scribe, watching me with his dark eyes. The moonlight shone off his hair and his skin, which made him have a slender, white throat.

"Rekhyt?" Ptolemy's copy asked.

I groaned and pulled myself into a tighter ball. 4 (As pathetic as I might sound to you at this moment, I have never had to deal with this type of pain before so please cut me some slack.)

"Rekhyt," my new master said again, "I'm sorry about the other day. It was my first summoning and I forgot to make adjustments to the pentacle so it wouldn't hurt you. I am sorry.

Despite the pain in me, I smirked into my arms. That was Ptolemy, always trying to be so kind. But this child was not Ptolemy. I sat up and watched this copy, my own form shifting to something his human mind could grasp. He kept talking.

"I hope we can be friends, even after yesterday's misunderstanding. "

He went to say something else, I could tell by the way he breathed, but I cut him off.

"Is the barrier still up?" I asked, my eyes narrowed, pupils slit.

The copy shook his head.

"No," he said, "I fixed the designs, you can leave the pentacle if you wish."

I lifted my head, exposing my throat and looking down my nose at him, a haunty look on my face and I spoke,

"Are you sure that's a good idea, child."

He stared at me. I knew I was being nasty, I was acting like Nathaniel 5 (On one of his worst days) for heaven's sake, but I wanted to see his reaction. Would he still trust me if I acted like he couldn't.

He looked at me for another moment, then, right when I was going to give up, right before I realized that he may be to different, he smiled and yawned.

Yawned, just like my Ptolemy would have done had I acted the same way around him.

He wouldn't be cowed by my empty threats.

I relaxed my head and after I shifted to my yellow-eyed disguise I let my fingers attentively skim and pass over the pentacle. If this Ptolemy had been lying to me, then I wasn't sure what I would do.

I wouldn't hurt him, both for my own feelings and Kitty's.

Kitty's son sighed, and leaned forward, his palms resting outside of his pentacle to support himself. I watched him.

"I want to tell you a secret, Rekhyt," he said, an almost mischievous smile on his face, "But you must promise not to tell anyone, not even my mother."

I nodded and raised my hand, as if I was going to make a vow. "I swear on pain of death," I said, "I shall never tell."

Ptolemy sat back, took a breath and spoke,

"I had a dream, Rekhyt." He said, his eyes trained on my face, "You and I were in a place that I never seen before, but had wanted to go to. I couldn't see you, but I knew you were there, and I felt so peaceful in that place, I never wanted to leave. I felt… close to you, perhaps closer then I should have been. Then, I woke up. What do you think it means?"

I knew. I knew it like I knew that I had an essence. He was talking about the Other Place, about the time Ptolemy had gone there. How did he know that? Had he read Ptolemy's books? I pushed the idea away. No, Ptolemy's trip to the Other Place had been on the scroll that he dropped when he was killed. There was no way this boy could know something like that in order to dream about it, unless…

I stared at him for a moment. Was it possible?

My hand passed the pentacle line and I slowly reached towards the boy who may have been Ptolemy. I had to make sure, I had to know.

Was it possible? Had he been…?

The boy watched as my hand came closer to him and just before my fingers touched his skin, I smiled.

"Will you surrender to my tender claws?" I asked, quietly.

I didn't want to go to quickly and frighten him. If I moved to fast, I may destroy any hope of finding my answer. I had to go slow.

He didn't move, he just looked at me for a moment, and then his lips stirred and parted.

"Yes." He said, his voice a breath in the moonlight.

I touched him.

My fingers skimmed along the underside of his jaw, I could feel the warmth of his soft skin, and my touch seemed to relax him, because his eyes softened and became half-lidded. I moved closer to him. My other hand rested lightly on his shoulder and I tugged at him gently, easing him to move closer.

He only resisted for a moment, and when I thought he was close enough, I gently wrapped my arms around him, enveloping him in my grasp. As I held him, I let my forehead rest on his shoulder and waited. 6 (If I had done this to any other magician besides my Ptolemy, then I would have been forced back into my pentacle and possibly tortured.)

If he really was Ptolemy, my Ptolemy, then he would not hurt me.

He stayed still, frozen against me, perhaps in shock. I could feel his breath and the beat of his heart rippling through my essence, and as I waited, I whispered into his ear,

"I thought I'd lost you."

Whether my words were understood I didn't know, but I felt the boy's arms shift and lift. I shut my eyes. What would be, pain or pleasure?

_Please remember me._ I thought, desperately. I would die if he pushed me away.

Then, he sighed, a beautiful breath of air, before his arms wrapped around my neck, settling warm against my skin. His mind did not remember me, but his soul did, and so did his body.

I was pulled closer, and Ptolemy, my Ptolemy, breathed, his voice quiet in the dark,

"I am here now, Rekhyt. I'm here."

I knew then, there wasn't any doubt in my mind as I tightened my grip slightly and felt his warm body pressed against mine.

It was a different county, a different time, a different life but it was true.

Ptolemy, the sorcerer-child, the godling, my lover, had been reincarnated.

He didn't remember his former life, about being the pharaoh's nephew or the assassins, his mind didn't remember. He had forgotten everything, including me, but, just as if he had been in the Other Place, hints of his memories were surfacing. It was possible that if I stayed by him, he would dream and remember everything.

Ptolemy shivered against me in the moonlit darkness.

I had promised myself I wouldn't fall in love. No matter what, I would not love. I had promised.

I sighed.

I was about to break that promise, and I didn't care. I was in love with a boy who didn't remember me, but it didn't matter.

I was so happy. I could have been surrounded by all the enemies, spirit, magician, and commoner, that I had collected over the decades 7 (which is a lot let me say) and it wouldn't have mattered.

I lost Ptolemy, but I found him. I would not lose him again.

I smiled against Ptolemy's shoulder. I wanted to kiss him, to lay him gently on the floor and slowly undress him while I touched him, my hands gliding over his tan skin. I wanted to make love to him, right there. In the dark, on that wood floor, bathed in moonlight, I wanted to love him.

I didn't. I let him go, slowly, and when he pulled away I could see him smiling. It wasn't time yet. This was a new life for him and he was still young and inexperienced. I had to start over and go slowly. It may take a while until I could be one with him, but I could wait, as long as I was with him.

His arms still wrapped around my neck, Ptolemy yawned again, this time from pure exhaustion, and my eyes flicked over to a clock that read 3:37 AM in neon red numbers. So, since it was considered way to early in the morning for people to be awake, I lifted Ptolemy into my arms and walked to the bed, were I laid him down.

When he got settled under the blankets, I shifted my essence into a sleek house cat and hoped up on the bed as well. I lied down next to Ptolemy's side and as he and I began to drift off to sleep, his fingers found my back and he gently pet me, his fingers gliding through my fur. I purred at his touch and moved closer to him.

_You remind me  
Of a love I knew  
Feels so real it must be deja vu  
You remind me  
But I ain't got a clue  
Boy I'm so glad I found you  
_

I couldn't have been more content if I had tried.

Ending Author's Note : Alright, second chapter is complete. Please tell me what you think and I will continue. (smiles)

Coming up in Chapter Three - Bartimaeus begins to adjust to Ptolemy's new life style, and learns of the rouge magicians that are hunting his reincarnated lover. No one said life was easy. 


	3. Chapter 3

All right, chapter three is here.

Thank you to Hanyou Yarnball, RoxasIsReal13, and Kerii-chan for reviewing. You keep me writing. Thank you.

Suggested Listening - Africa by Toto

Now, let us begin.

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Neteryt Chapter Three

Written By MoonlightDewz

The next morning, sun was streaming in through the window. 1 (Well, at least as much sun can stream in England. I always had a slight dislike for England because of all the rain; Egypt is much nicer because it is warm and dry. Maybe I would return to the land of the Nile someday if I ever got a chance.)

I was on my back, still in cat form, if a little sloppy around the edges, and I heard Kitty's voice calling Ptolemy's name. I flicked an ear; opened my eyes and stretched, all four kitty legs lengthening as far as they would go. I fixed my shape, rolled over, got to my feet, and as I sat on the bed, I watched my master sleep.

I smiled. He looked so peaceful and beautiful, if things had turned out differently in Egypt, I wouldn't have had any complaints waking up to that face every day.

Kitty called again, and since Ptolemy didn't seem to be waking up, I decide that the task fell to me.

I padded easily over to his shoulder and proceeded rub my furry head into his side. 2 (If this had been Nathaniel I probably would have needled him in the shoulder or breathed cat breath up his nose, but since it was Ptolemy I went for the more gentle approach.)

My master moved a bit and raised a hand to pet me. His hand found the back of my neck and while his gentle caressing was exceedingly nice; he wasn't about to deter me from my task.

I purred and placed a soft kitty paw in his face.

That woke him.

"Good morning." I said, after he had opened those gorgeous dark eyes and I removed my paw.

He sighed and smiled softly at me, his body warm and his eyes soft, and I almost wished I had made love to him the night before.

"Good morning, Rekhyt." He said, fighting back a yawn.

"Your mother has been calling you." I smiled, driving my thoughts away, "You better get up before she decides to come up here."

Ptolemy sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and, after leaving the bed and bundling me up in his arms, moved out of the room. We walked down a short hallway, down some stairs and came into the kitchen, were Kitty was drinking coffee and reading the paper. 3 (Probably waiting until the papers started writing about the commoner's uprising, because we all knew it was going to happen eventually.)

Ptolemy let me onto the tabletop and I padded over to Kitty to look at the front page of the paper. I read some dates 4 (it was the 5th of June, 2027, Sunday) and checked to see if anything exciting was happening. My master sat down in a chair somewhere behind me, and I sat down, right were I was, as well.

The Uprising was making progress. Although not in the way I had originally thought.

"PENTACLE" ATTACKS GOVERNMENT BUILDING, FIVE INJURED, was the headline, and as I skimmed over the small print I learned that some rouge magicians under the name of the "Pentacle" had targeted the government, which was being run by magicians and commoners. 5 (That was new. Who would of thought that magicians and commoners could actually be equals? Most of the time they just overthrew each other.) The "Pentacle", by what the article said, were a group of magic users who disliked commoners and didn't like the way the government was changing to be an equal representation between the two parties.

I sighed and shook my head. Humans could never fully get along could they? They were always fighting over food or land. I was surprised that civilization had even been possible, because it didn't seem like anyone wanted to agree on anything.

"Good morning, mother." Ptolemy said behind me, and Kitty looked up from her paper.

"Good morning." She said, a smile on her face. She looked happy, and for that I was glad. She had tried so hard to change her world, and although she had gone through many hardships, she eventually succeeded. It was good that she was able to be so happy.

Then, she noticed me sitting on the table.

Her eyes settled on me, almost looking surprised that I was there.

"Hello." I said, looking at her.

"Hello again, Bartimaeus," she said, the smile coming back to her face, "Are you planning on staying around this time?"

"Yes," I said, nodding, before I turned around and moved to sit by Ptolemy's breakfast. 6 (Cereal, if you're curious.)

"Well, that's good to hear." She said, folding her paper, "With the way things are right now, we could use all the help we can get."

I didn't bother asking what "help" I'd be giving, I knew I would find out eventually. 7 (Most likely when I was being shot at and diving for cover.)

From my place on the table, the cat's tail lazily swinging back and forth over the edge, I studied Ptolemy and Kitty. When I had first seen them the other day, I couldn't find any resemblance, but now that I could get a good look, I realized that there were similarities between them.

They both had the same dark hair, and the same nose. It was strange that I have never noticed before. Maybe that was the reason I had been so open with Kitty the first time she and I had a civil conversation. She reminded me of Ptolemy. Ptolemy was Kitty's son, at least in this life.

For the rest of breakfast, Kitty and my master discussed what they were both going to do for the day. Kitty was going to a government meeting of some kind, 8 (she didn't look like she wanted to attend the meeting but had forced herself into going) and Ptolemy was going to the library to do research.

I smiled. Same old Ptolemy, always had to know everything under the sun, and a good amount that wasn't.

The meeting over, Ptolemy bid his mother goodbye and left to get dressed, leaving Kitty and me alone as she collected her wallet and keys to leave. However, before she left the house she looked directly at me and told me, very seriously,

"Bartimaeus, protect my son."

I told her I would, and as she left I hopped off the table and followed Ptolemy up the stairs to his room.

I heard the front door close when I reached his retreating feet in the hallway. Kitty was gone.

He entered his room and I sat down outside the doorway. I was perfectly comfortable staying out of the room while he got changed. If it would make him feel uncomfortable with me watching him undress I'd be fine outside the room.

He didn't give me a choice.

"Rekhyt?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me when I didn't follow him, "Is something wrong?"

"No." I said as I shook my head, "Nothing's wrong."

His face relaxed, he smiled and said, "Then please come in."

I stood and walked forward. If my being in the room wasn't going to make him feel uncomfortable then all the better for me. I'd hate for something to happen to him while I was locked on the other side of the doorway. Besides, none of this made a huge difference to me. I had spent two years watching Ptolemy walk around in a loincloth, for goodness sake. I would have no problems what so ever watching him.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I entered the room, Ptolemy closed the door behind me, and I hopped onto the bed. Simple. Then he started undressing and the second my eyes fell on the exposed skin of his collarbone I had to grit my teeth.

We were in England, not Egypt, two thousand years since the death of his first life and, still, he was so beautiful.

I watched him as his soft hands worked patiently on the buttons of his pajama shirt, slowly reveling more of him to me. I would have looked away if I could, but I couldn't stop staring, thinking of how badly I wanted to slip that shirt from his shoulders and make love to him. I even caught myself rising from the bed a few times as I watched him; but I suppressed my feelings and sat down again.

No matter how much I wanted him, no matter how much being around him drove me mad, no matter how much I wanted to kiss him, I would not give in to my desires. It was not yet time. As long I remembered that he didn't remember me, then I could keep my memories and my reality separate and not trip myself up.

Then, a thread on the inside of his pajama's snagged and twisted around a button and he frowned. I watched as he moved to a desk in the corner of the room, looked in a draw of the desk, but didn't find what he was looking for. He sighed, frustrated, and then his eyes locked on me.

I knew what was coming. Ptolemy was going to ask a question.

Then, possibly the worst thing that I could imagine happened, the worst question he could have asked me was spoken.

"Could you help me, Rekhyt?" he said, looking at me, his soft, thin hands scrunched in his pajama shirt.

I hopped off the bed and moved closer, my form shifting as I walked. The young yellow-eyed man looked down at my master and asked what he could do to help.

Ptolemy said what I already knew. His shirt was caught, he didn't want pull the thread loose incase it pulled and ripped the shirt, and he had no scissors.

Could I cut the thread?

I looked at my hands, the nails nice but short and dull, not adequate for cutting anything. My essence wouldn't like shifting again so soon, and besides, even if my nails were sharp enough, I would not use them so close to Ptolemy's tender flesh.

I gulped quietly and shut my eyes for a moment.

I had no choice. I would have to use something else on my person.

I could only hope I wouldn't do something I would regret.

Ptolemy was relaxed as he watched me kneel down, and stayed relaxed as I eased his hands away. I examined the offending, jammed thread for a moment and then, before my master changed his mind, took the thread gently between my teeth.

As I held his hands, using my teeth and tongue to assist him, I hoped Kitty would not appear unexpectedly. My essence would not be in the best position if she thought I was undressing her son with my teeth. I didn't know if she had other spirits at her command or if she'd given all of that up after Nathaniel's death, but I would be at the end of a woman's wrath if she misunderstood our position. 9 (Not saying at I didn't want to use my teeth to undress him, but now was not the time or the place for such actions.)

Using just my eyes, I looked up at my master. He was still relaxed, eyes soft with a kind smile on his face, and I had to look away from him.

Internally, my essences twisted almost painfully. I was so close to him; the warmth of him brushing against my skin. I yearned to lean forward and brush his stomach with my lips, to feel him shiver in pleasure and gasp faintly against me as I held him. However, I could feel the warmth from his hands as I held them kindly, reminding myself that he would remember anything I did to him. If my actions made him uncomfortable, then he may act awkward around me, or possibly dismiss me all together.

I shut my eyes.

Why was it that he tortured me so?

Ptolemy did not use lances or other forms of spiritual punishment but the pain he was making me suffer was torture in itself.

Ptolemy kindly tightened his grip at my hands, so I gently used my teeth and-

**Snip**.

It was done.

I pulled away, but he didn't let go of my hands. He bent closer and said, a smile on his face,

"Thank you, my friend."

I didn't speak, I couldn't, not when he was still so kind, and I began to wonder what the future would hold for us. Would my life in the human world be peaceful for once? 10 (Not likely.) Or would it be filled with danger? 11 (Again) Could I protect Ptolemy in his new life or, when things went fatally wrong, would he send me away again? I could only question, and follow.

After dressing, my master and I headed off to the city library. The library was only a few blocks away so we walked. 12 (Or at least, Ptolemy walked; I had taken the form of a sparrow, easily perched on his shoulder) Then, for a change of pace, I asked questions.

"So," I said, ruffling my feathers, "Is Kitty your only family member?"

"Yes." my master said, nodding.

"Any cousins, rivals, jealous girls?" I asked, looking at him with my dark bird eyes.

"What?" he said, looking almost startled, "No, nothing like that."

I smirked at his reaction and kept asking.

"Any enemies at all?"

He sighed.

"Why are you asking all these questions, Rekhyt?" He asked, looking at me.

"Oh no reason," I said, overlooking the fact that he hadn't answer my last question, "It's just that your mother asked me to protect you and I'd like to know what I'm up against."

I expected a reply, but only received silence. I knew he wasn't telling me something, but I wouldn't make him tell me what it was. Sooner or later I would find out what he didn't want to say.

When we arrived at the library I had to change form again. 13 (Since I don't think the librarian who be happy about a sparrow perching on the book shelves.)

Deciding that I would only use this new form to get into the library, then shift to my yellow-eyed human once we were settled, I became another boy. Seventeen or eighteen, with pale skin, black hair, and gray blue eyes, he was another one of my masters I hadn't been able to save.

Nathaniel.

If she had been there, Kitty possibly would have been cross with me for using Nathaniel's form. However, she may also have understood why I used it for that one instance.

I loved Ptolemy, but I also missed Nathaniel.

My late master had not existed in either of Ptolemy's times, so my lover did not know that my form had been someone I had known. I could see the question he wanted to ask deep in his eyes. His lips moved slightly, but he did not ask.

We entered the library, the women at the counter smiled and waved at my master when we came in, and he waved back. When we arrived near the back of the library, I changed into my yellow-eyed disguise, Ptolemy pulled some books off the shelves, and we sat down at a table. Then, looking at me as I sat across from him, he started asking me questions. Lots of questions.

When and where was I first summoned? Where did I go in the world? Who had I met? What had I seen? Did I enjoy my time in the human world? How had I been treated? Had I ever been unbelievably unhappy?

His questions didn't surprise me, I was getting close to being five thousand thirty eight years old by human standards, I should think that I had some good information to give.

So I told him my past.

I told him of the countries I had seen, the times I had witnessed, the people I met. I talked about Solomon, Galdstone, Nathaniel, and Kitty, among others. I omitted his past life, and anything about his gateway. I didn't know what Kitty had told him, if anything, but I felt that the less he knew about it at the moment, the safer he would be. If he was suspicious about the gaps in time or the lose ends in my stories that I tried to tie up, he didn't say anything.

As I spoke he would write. His pen to paper he would jot down my answers, my history, and occasionally, when I didn't know a date, he would open a book and, using the information I could give him, find the point in time I was talking about.

And, just like in his last life, Ptolemy's dark eyes would light up as he listened to my every word, and I felt peaceful and happy.

When I finished, Ptolemy made a trade, and told me something of himself.

He had not been born in England, but in Cairo, Egypt. His mother, Kitty, had traveled to Egypt on a pleasure trip when she was near her early twenties and due to the year she spent there, she became heavy with child. Worried for the child, she decided to stay in Egypt until her son was born. After he had come into the world and was strong enough to make the trip, she took him with her and they returned to England.

Ptolemy didn't know who his father had been, but it didn't matter to him. He said he was content with not knowing who the man was, but had decided early on that he would visit Egypt when he was older. 14 (I'm sure he would feel right at home.)

When I asked why, he said that he didn't really know, just that he felt he should see it. I hoped he would be alive to follow through with his plans. He hadn't seen much of the world when he was alive the first time.

After spending a good amount of time at the library, Ptolemy and I packed up and started heading home. That's when the trouble started.

As we traveled down the street, I perched on Ptolemy's shoulder as a sparrow once again; I felt the presences of some djinni following us with murderous intent. Hiding behind buildings as pigeons or in sewers as rats they didn't feel very powerful but there were seven of them.

I could handle six, I had done so before, but seven was kind of pushing it.

I brought them to my master's attention as they began to close in.

"Master?" I whispered in his ear so only he could hear.

"I know." He said softly, looking straight ahead, his eyes narrowed. His fists clenched and he kept walking.

"Don't worry," I soothed, tenderly squeezing his shoulder with tiny bird feet, "I'll protect you."

He nodded, and said, quietly,

"I have every faith in you, Rekhyt." Then fell silent.

I looked around quickly. The closest form of cover was an antique store so I whispered to Ptolemy and we entered.

There was an old man at the counter, but he didn't care about us so we slipped in between the shelving that almost reached the ceiling. The place was rather cluttered, but that would help us in the long run. 15 (At least I hoped it would.)

The seven djinnis, now in the disguises of tall, slim ghouls in black cloaks with blank, white faces, followed.

The old man saw them enter his store and did the smart thing. He went to hide in the storeroom.

While the djiinis were checking the planes to make sure the retreating old man was just an old man and not me in disguise, I had just enough time to change my form and hide Ptolemy in a somewhat safe corner cluttered with large pottery and a large tribal mask.

As his copy, I smiled down at him and then cast a concealment over him to hide him, just incase one of the seven decided to do a quick once over of the planes. Walking silently over a couple of aisles, I stepped out from between the shelves, and in front of the djinnis. The storeroom door closed.

"Hey," I said, smiling widely at them, "Looking for me?"

All spirit heads turned, looking at me, blank, featureless faces locking onto me, and the slaughter began.

I jumped back nimbly as one of the djinni in the front lunged and made a grab for me, trying to impale me with the foot long claws on its hands, but it missed, and the others came after me.

I expected them to use denotations or the like, but when they did not, instead trying to go hand to hand with me, I dodged. Hand to hand fighting is all right by me, but not if I have to take on seven opponents at the same time.

I had chosen this place and my form of Ptolemy because they gave me the advantage. The room was cluttered but I was small and fast, able to dodge around and not get caught by the items around me. Unlike the ghouls who were fast, yet were too tall to get around easily. I supposed they could have changed into other forms to get around easier, but I could tell by the way they all looked the same that there was something keeping them from changing now that they were in battle. 16 (I didn't look a gifted horse in the mouth and ask them why they were unable to change though. I just took it as a stroke of my good luck and kept fighting.)

I escaped from the advancing hoard of djinni by a series of dodges, feints, and jumps. 17 (Which included ducking around a number of shelving, squeezing between the wall and a table and hoping over a footstool). The ghouls tried to follow me, but some got jammed where I had made it through and others tried to find other ways around. They became so confused by my antics that when I soundlessly climbed on top of one of the shelves, they didn't even think to look up.

I sat there, watching the enemy trying to find me, and decided to end this battle quickly. Raising both of my hands I planned to throw some denotations into their midst's, but stopped before my power ignited.

If I used any of my powers then not only would I hurt the enemy djinnis but I could possibly hurt Ptolemy as well, not to mention myself and a good amount of the old man's antiques. Now I understood why the ghouls were not using denotations. They were worried about the safety for themselves and their comrades.

I frowned. I couldn't use my powers, but I couldn't fight them hand-to-hand on my own. I needed some type of weapon, yet still be able to dodge.

As I was looking around for something to use, one of the djinni spotted me and almost caught me when he came soaring up to the top of the shelf. I dodged, but I hadn't had time to look to where I would leap and I landed in range of another djinni.

This one rushed at me from the side, and I had no time to escape. Its claws wrapped around my throat as it plowed into me and we both went sailing into the counter.

As I was pressed against the glass, kicking and struggling, trying anything to get free, the other six djinnis came from their places within the store and made their way towards me.

I growled to myself. This was not good. If these djinnis killed me then all they'd have to do would be to tear the place apart to find Ptolemy and then they would murder him.

My eyes narrowed, pupils slit.

The darkness of the temple, suffocating and stale.

Hisses and growls, begging for death.

Blood of my lover, red on white.

Dismissal words with a dying breath.

Screaming as a million voices screamed with me, all feeling the same pain.

Then, loneliness among millions, drained anger, heartbroken.

I had been heartbroken.

I grit my teeth.

No, I couldn't stand the thought of Ptolemy being taken away from me, his life snuffed out like a candle flame. Not again.

I would not let any of my lover's blood be spilt.

I would not let them have Ptolemy.

I would not let my love kill him. Never again.

My essence suddenly prickled, a cold, sharp feeling near my side. My body automatically tried to move any from the item that was creating my discomfort.

I looked behind me.

In the case, behind the glass, was a curved Egyptian sword. It was nothing special. Just a piece of metal that started out straight at the tip then curved into a half moon near the middle of the blade before straightening again for the leather bound hilt.

Even though it was old, it had been kept in good condition.

Also, it was made of one of the materials spirits could not stand.

Iron.

The claw on my windpipe tightened, and before the ghoul could suffocate me, I twisted and crashed my fist through the glass casting.

My essence twisted and shivered, wanting to pull away from the iron, but I force myself to grab the hilt, and when I came back around, the deadly weapon in my hand, the other djinni shrank back, the one holding on to me shuddering at the close proximity of the iron.

"He is mine." I hissed, right before I brought the sword down on the ghoul who held me. The blade flashed.

The djinni dropped like a stone, essence spilling from its fatal wound.

I had slit its throat.

The others tried to flee, but I was much too angry. My memories fueled my anger, enraged me, and I attacked, a wicked smile on my face.

The blade was burning the palm of my hand but I kept going against the pain. I could feel the bloodlust rushing through me, reminding me of that final battle I had fought, bonded with Nathaniel. Ptolemy would not be pleased when I went for him, but I felt that if I left even one of the ghoul djinni alive then I would fail.

I would never fail again.

I didn't stop until the seven djinni were nothing but hissing puddles of essence on the floor.

I dropped the blade, heard it clang to the floor, and looked at my hand. Luckily, the leather around the hilt had kept my essence mostly safe. My palm was smoking a bit and felt a bit sore, but it would be all right after a short rest in the Other Place.

I waited until I stopped smoking before I went to fetch Ptolemy.

I removed the concealment and pushed the tribal mask out of the way, changing into the yellow-eyed disguise I only wanted to show to Ptolemy as I worked.

Ptolemy looked up at me from his sitting place on the floor, the anxiousness on his face dying when he saw I was unharmed. Then, he saw the puddles behind me, dropped his gaze, and sighed sadly.

"Oh, Bartimaeus," he said softly, shaking his head. Ptolemy was a scholar at heart, not a warrior or a hunter, and he disliked death and bloodshed. I felt guilty for making him disappointed in me, which made me feel like I had let myself down, but it couldn't be helped.

"I had to," I said, firmly, "They would have killed you if I didn't."

He sighed again and whispered, "I know."

I reached out my hand to help him to his feet.

"Come." I said gently, and when he took my hand I lifted him to his feet.

I expected him to let go of my hand once he had gotten his balance, but he didn't release me. Something about our position must have reminded him of something because his dark eyes locked on to me and he stared for a moment. Then, before I had a chance to react, he came closer to me and kissed me.

I froze.

It was a quick kiss. His lips only lingered for less then a second against mine, but it was enough to surprise me.

I wasn't the only one. As he quickly pulled back, my master looked surprised at what he had just done, and as I watched, the surprise was swiftly replaced by a look of disappointment. However, the disappointment was not directed at me, but at himself.

"I shouldn't have done that." He said, looking away, confused by his actions. "Why did I…?"

He turned back to me, still standing close, still holding my hand. He was confused, but he didn't pull away completely.

"Rekhyt," he said, "I am sorry I…"

While he was speaking my hand, the one that wasn't holding his, came up to gently rest under his chin and tip his head. He trailed off and didn't finish what he was going to say, as I smiled softly.

"Hush," I whispered against his lips and then I kissed him back, tenderly.

I wouldn't run away this time. I wouldn't leave him.

His grip on my hand tightened softly for a moment before he relaxed, melting into my arms, my touch. My lips brushed against his in a lover's caress, soft and smooth, and he breathed, opening his mouth for me. His other hand came up to rest against my shoulder, and I warped my arm around his waist.

We didn't let go of our clasped hands.

I went slowly as I kissed him, and gently deepen the kiss. The hand on my shoulder tightened its grip on my shirt, and for a moment I thought he might pull away.

I should have waited, but I couldn't wait any longer then I already had. I couldn't stand not being able to kiss him, to share my love with him. I had waited so long already.

I had been driven mad by him.

He sighed as I held his warm, delicious body against me and he did not pull away, but I decided to withdraw. I wanted to continue. To kiss him and claim him and make him mine, but I didn't want to go so fast that we did something Ptolemy would regret. When I broke away, I rested my forehead against my master's and listened to him breathe. It was a beautiful sound.

"L-let's go home." He breathed, eyes closed, panting lightly. It seemed like I had stolen his breath away.

"All right," I whispered, and as I held his hand, I lead him out of the antique store and back to the house.

I wasn't sure what he was thinking. He was probably extremely confused about the whole thing because he didn't talk to me until sometime after we got back to the house. He just had this thoughtful, confused frown on his face, eyes hard and focused and I knew better then to interrupt him while he was thinking.

Kitty was home when we got back and she asked us how our day had gone. Ptolemy told her.

Luckily for my sake he left out our kiss, but Kitty was rather disturbed by the seven djinnis who had tried to kill her son. She spent a good amount of time checking Ptolemy over and asking questions, which Ptolemy gracefully answered. When she learned that I had killed all seven djinnis she asked if I was all right.

I told her I had injured my hand, but I would be fine as long as I was dismissed.

She hugged Ptolemy; glad for his safe return, and then to my amazement, hugged me as well.

"Thank you, Bartimaeus." She said, and then let me go.

It was early evening by the time my master went to retire to his room and I moved quietly behind him. The look on his face had eased while talking to Kitty, but now it was back in full force. Eyes hard as obsidian, his mouth pulled down in a frown, I could feel his discomfort, but I wasn't sure how to ease it and it made me feel on edge. He wouldn't speak to me.

Finally, after Ptolemy entered his room and closed the door behind me, he sighed and spoke.

"All right," he said, not turning to face me, "Please stand in the pentacle so I can dismiss you. I just need to make some adjustments before you can be sent back."

I did what he asked me, being quiet as I sat down. Tension was high and my essence felt like it would snap from the nerves. I had no idea what he could be thinking and it made me feel uncomfortable.

What "adjustments" was he going to make? My eyes widened as I realized that he may be planning to lock me in the pentacle for future summonings, or maybe even erase my name so he would never summon me again.

If either of those things happened I wouldn't be able to bear it. I would be better off dead if it came to that.

The more I thought about it the more worried I became and when Ptolemy came to make his adjustments I just stared at the floor.

I thought that I could handle the fact that Ptolemy didn't remember me. I thought I could keep my memories and reality separate. I thought I could control myself. I was wrong.

I had made a mistake. I had gone to fast with him, made him uncomfortable, and now this was my punishment. I was going to lose him again, and this time the pain would be worse then before.

He came to stand in front of me and when he began the dismissal, I looked up at him, sadly. It may be the last time I saw him, and I didn't want to leave with bad blood between us.

"Ptolemy," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking with sadness, "I am sorry."

He blinked and stared at me, the end of the dismissal I hadn't been listening to on his lips.

"What?" he asked, a questioning look on his face.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. "I am sorry," I said again, "I displeased you and made you feel uncomfortable, I didn't mean to upset you, I just…it's just…"

_Why must you torture me?_

I trailed off, my mouth pressed into a line. I wanted say what I felt but couldn't bring myself to say it so I just fell silent and waited for my master to finish the dismissal I had interrupted.

He spoke, hesitantly, confused, "Why are you…?"

I wasn't looking at him but I could tell when realization hit. I could tell by his little hitch of breath, and the way his body shifted the air currents. I waited for my punishment.

"Look at me, Bartimaeus." He said suddenly. His tone left no room for objections so, even though I didn't think I could stand it, I looked up.

He was crouched down on the floor in front of me, and he reached out towards me with both of his hands. I almost moved back, almost winced when he touched me, his arms coming to wrap around my neck. He was so beautiful with such a kind heart and I felt worthless and ashamed. The one person I loved had been pushed away by my impatience.

"Listen to me." he said, gazing at me with those dark eyes, his fingers curled into my hair, trying to keep me there, just like when I made love to him the first time.

I didn't want to listen. My essence coiled, twisted, tried to back away yet stayed, unsure if I wanted to do this again. I couldn't take any more rejection. My essence would shrivel and die if I was rejected again. I wanted to pull away from him, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I had to listen.

"I am… confused, my friend." He said as he came closer, moving into my pentacle with me, "I acted on impulse back at the store and I do not know why. That is all. I am not displeased with you in the least."

He fell silent for a moment and I didn't speak, I wanted to hear what he had to say. A spark of hope flared inside my essence. Perhaps all was not lost.

"But now, I believe I am starting to understand."

He tipped his head.

"Rekhyt," He whispered, softly, "Please let me kiss you."

Then he brushed his lips against mine again, and I closed my eyes to hide my heartbreaking and my hope.

Had I possessed any body fluid I would have cried, but as I had no blood, sweat, nor tears, I could not. 18 (Which I am glad for thank you very much. Most of the humans I have seen that have lost body fluids usually were in a state of distress and died shortly afterwards.)

My master's kiss was slow this time, more sure, comforting. He pressed himself close and tightened his grip when I did not response right away.

_I want this._ His actions said, _I want you. Please let me have what I want._

I indulged him, my arms slowly wrapping my arms around him, feeling his warm form curled in my arms, and I kissed him back, timid, slow, and he accepted.

I hadn't been wrong, and for that I felt my heart would burst. There was still hope.

The kiss didn't last long, after all Ptolemy needed to breathe, but he stayed in my arms, content and soft. He was no longer puzzled by either of our actions, and when he dismissed me with an open pentacle so I could return when I healed, he was serene and happy and so was I.

I just hoped that, for the small amount of time I'd be gone, something would not happen for us to lose these pleasant feelings.

I would return as quickly as possible.

--------------------------

Across town, in the dark and the rain, a lone imp flew back to its master. It wrung its hands nervously. It had seen the fourth level djinni take out seven of its masters and his comrades' djinnis. It hoped that the news it brought would not earn in the unfortunate hug or worse, the shriveling fire!

It shivered. Its essence would not survive if the shriveling fire was used on it.

Flying down to its master's lodging in pushed its way in through an open window and presented itself to it master and the masters comrades as they sat at a table.

"What news do you bring?" the master said.

The imp wrung its hands and kept its head down.

"The seven have failed, master." It said.

"All seven?" a woman's voice said, sounding disbelieving, "Nonsense, the imp must be lying."

"My imps never lie." The man said, as he pointed to a large mirror on the wall, and then commanded the imp, "Show us."

The imp nodded and moved to the mirror. It sent a quick thank you to the Other Place that mirrors were no longer made of silver, just pressed glass, and as soon as the imp touched the glass it was sucked into the mirror. It then proceeded to show what it had seen, commentating for it master and his friends.

"This is the djinni Bartimaeus," the mirror said as the polished surfaced showed the form of a Egyptian looking boy dodging the seven ghoul djinnis, "Fourth level, is under the charge of Ptolemy Jones."

"Yes, yes," said another man, this one with a beard, waving his hand, "We know all of that imp. Show us something that would interest us."

The imp cleared its throat and continued, showing the djinni Bartimaeus jumping from a high shelf to get away from a ghoul only to get knocked into and pinned by another against the store's counter.

"It doesn't look that strong," the woman sneered, "I still say we use the shriveling fire and get the truth."

"Don't be stupid," the imp's master said, glaring at the woman, "If you used the shriveling fire then the information would be lost. Continue imp."

The woman grit her teeth but said nothing.

The imp continued, showing Ptolemy's djinni slowly being suffocated by the ghoul djinni. Then, something changed in the captured djinni's eyes; it smashed the glass counter behind it and grabbed something.

"What is that?" the bearded man asked, "What did it take?"

The woman answered. "An Egyptian sword," she scoffed, crossing her arms, "Possibly iron. This demon must have a death wish. It's own essence would be injured by the metal. Why is it torturing itself, it must be insane."

She had to swallow her words, for what the imp showed next caused all the occupants of the room to stare in disbelief.

It was a massacre.

The seven ghouls dropped like flies and Bartimaeus almost looked possessed.

"Oh God." The bearded man said, his hands tightening to fists on the table.

"He's so strong." The imp's master mused, staring at the bloodlust in the djinni's eyes.

"Impossible." The woman said, her eyes wide as she shook her head, trying to deny what she was seeing.

"Why is it doing that?" the man with the dark beard said, "It should be letting our demon's kill the boy. It gets nothing for its service."

"Not true." The imp said, the mirror showing the end of the battle turned bloodbath, "There is a reason for its actions."

They saw.

The djinni changed form into a tan, yellow eyed human with burgundy hair, and helped Ptolemy Jones to his feet. The two stared at each other for a moment, still holding hands, then the master quickly kissed his slave.

The people watching the recording sucked it their breath, but, for them, it was about to get worse.

Both human and djinni seemed confused for a moment but as the boy spoke, his djinni's eyes softened and its hand rose. The magician fell silent as his djinni tipped the boys head. Then it smiled, and deeply kissed the boy back, holding its master's body securely in its arms.

The women stood, her back straight as a board. "That is disgusting!" she raged, a snarl on her face to show her disgust.

"Now," the master of the imp mused, stroking his chin as he thought, "That is interesting."

The women turned on him, looking shocked and angry.

"Interesting? Interesting!" she raved, "What is so interesting about that?!"

She pointed an accusing finger at the mirror as the playback ended, and the imp wisely stayed quiet.

The bearded man suddenly laughed from his chair, the sound deep but nasty.

"Don't you see?" he said, chuckling, "The demon is in love with its master. That's why it had such power. It was protecting its lover."

The imp's master smiled like a snake, "Like a lion protects its kill. We could use this to our advantage."

The women sat down, and the Pentacle began to plan.

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Preview of next chapter -

"What is your desire?" I whispered gently in his ear, my other hand coming to support the back of his head.

He smiled, his eyes dark and deep as his arms wrapped around my neck. He pulled me down, so I lay over him on the bed and he said the words I wanted to hear.

"You. I want you, Rekhyt."


	4. Chapter 4

Heylo, chapter four is finally being posted and I hope the size of this offering pleases all of you. I didn't mean for it to be so long, but I just kept adding parts to the chapter and I hope it was wroth it.

Thank you to everyone would has reviewed. I love knowing that people enjoy reading this story and because of that I shall continue writing. Thank you again.

Also, after you read this chapter, please go over to MoonlightDewz' Youtube account because I made a Bartimaeus music video to the song "Blow Me Away" by Breaking Benjamin and I would really appreciate it if people would comment on it.

Now, before the mad hoards of spirits are released from the Other Place and try to devour me, let us begin.

Suggested Listening - What Have You Done (Feat. Keith Caputo) by Within Temptation

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Chapter Four

_Would you mind if I hurt you?_

_Understand that I need to_

_Wish that I had other choices_

_than to harm the one I love_

_What have you done now!_

_I know I'd better stop trying_

_You know that there's no denying_

_I won't show mercy on you now_

_I know, should stop believing_

_I know, there's no retrieving_

_It's over now, what have you done?_

_What have you done now!_

_I, I've been waiting for someone like you_

_But now you are slipping away... oh_

_(What have you done now!)_

_Why, why does fate make us suffer?_

_There's a curse between us, between me and you_

_What have you done! What have you done!_

- What Have You Done (Feat. Keith Caputo) by Within Temptation

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As I floated in the Other Place, my essence healing quickly, I hoped I would only be gone for the night. Since time is not measured in the Other Place I had no idea how long I'd been away, but I decided to get back as quickly as possible.

I didn't like the idea of leaving Ptolemy alone for long, especially after the attack the other day. Granted, I was pretty sure that whoever had summoned those seven djinnis would not be to quick to summon more after I had killed the first set, but you could never be to careful.

As soon as my essence was no longer burnt and sore, I reached out to my master's pentacle. I could not leave the human world without a dismissal, but the modified pentacle let me come back as soon as I was healed. I felt the cool tendrils of Ptolemy's spell reach back to me across the planes and wrap around my essence. Then, as the spell tightened around me, I was ripped from the Other Place and back to my master.

When I returned to the pentacle, free to escape it if I wished, the sun was just beginning to peak over the houses from the night before. I looked around the dim room. Ptolemy was asleep in his bed, his lips pressed into a line, the fingers of his right hand clamped over his throat. I walked over on silent cat feet and hoped onto the bed.

I wondered what he was dreaming about. Was he having a nightmare?

As I sat there, watching as his faced tightened, fingers digging lightly into his skin, his back curled him into a slight ball, it almost seemed like he was trying to protect himself from something. To try and relax him I rubbed the cat's body against his side, and he gasped quietly in his sleep at my touch. His lips moved, parted, and he whispered.

"Rekhyt, I..."

He did not awaken, and did not speak again, but I stayed as quiet as I could. His release of words seemed to liberate some of the tension in his body because he uncurled a bit, his fingers eased their protective grip and his face relaxed. After a moment of watching him to make sure he wouldn't tighten up again, I moved to the windowsill to watch for danger.

What had he been about to say? Was he dreaming about me, or was it just a reaction to my touch? I thought about my questions while the sun rose and the bedside clocked changed and glowed seven am.

When Ptolemy woke he didn't seem to be bothered by his nightmare dream, so I released it from my mind as well. No need to worry about something that didn't exist when there were bigger dangers.

"Good morning, my friend." He said to me, smiling as he sat up in bed.

I nodded and asked, "How long was I gone?"

Not long, I found out. It was Monday, June 6th, and Ptolemy had to go to school.

After getting dressed 1 (School uniform, white button-down shirt, long black pants, and a black jacket, I was slightly surprised the school didn't make him wear a tie as well) and collecting his things, he and I let Kitty drive us to the school. 2 (I was a fly, buzzing inside against the closed car window.)

She dropped us off, told us she'd be back by three thirty, gave my master a mother's kiss, and then drove away to her job. 3 (Which was working for the government. She was trying to recruit more commoners into the government, and she had even written a pamphlet titled Historical Notes, by Kathleen Jones (Hyrnek Publishers, London), which was supplied to all incoming MPs in the new People's Parliament. When I asked why she had taken to working for the government she had been trying to overthrow, she said it was because of her son. When she was eighteen she had refused, but after she realized she'd have to provide for not only herself but Ptolemy has well, she had to get a more stable job.)

For the rest of the day Ptolemy attended classes and I hung upside down from the ceiling as a fly, watching for any danger with multifaceted eyes. I wasn't too worried. As I said before, the enemy wouldn't make a go at attacking for a little while, and if this school was letting magician children attend then there had to be some type of magical protection for the students.

I checked the planes. There was a magical blue mesh on the second and third planes that covered the windows, and in every room I checked throughout the day had a djinni or foilet keeping guard as a hat rack or bookcase. 4 (They gave me odd looks, but since I was not attacking any of the students in their district, they left me pretty much alone.)

Those defenses seemed good enough for keeping out some lower magical entities and small spells, but they wouldn't hold if something, say an afrit, tried to break in. Although I supposed it was safe enough.

Ptolemy, despite the fact that he did not look like a native of London, seemed to fit in rather well among his peers. During class he would answer questions, but still let others try to answer first, giving them a chance. Not many took it, they were rather quiet in the class, but some spoke, and it made the class seem even. For that, the teachers enjoyed having him in their classes.

Girls giggled and smiled at my master when he needed to walk down the hallways, and even some boys turned to watch him pass, their eyes glued to his form. I smiled from my place on the wall. With his tan skin and slender dark eyes, he really made an impression on people. 5 (I should know, I am one of those "people".) To the people around him, including myself, he was exotic, beautiful and alluring, and in a few years, he would be irresistible.

Of course, I'm not saying that all the attention Ptolemy was getting wasn't stopping from making me feel just a bit smug. I had kissed those soft lips, I had held that warm gorgeous body in my arms, I had made love to that form, and they hadn't.

People liked my master as a person, but none of them had gotten close enough to make him theirs'.

As unfair as this sounds, I was glad he hadn't been claimed. I was in love with him, and if I had to fight with some type of jealous, fawning, high school girlfriend for him, I might have blasted her into bits. I had waited over two thousand years, and I wasn't about to let some girl with a name like Mary Sue have him.

However, it wasn't just his looks that attracted people, but his kind heart as well. When he helped someone, commoner, magician, or spirit, he wasn't expecting a thank you of any kind, he just acted because he could not stand to see anyone hurt or in pain.

This kindness was shown during lunch. Ptolemy was sitting at a table in the courtyard, studying, and I was perched on his book as a small butterfly. 6 (After all, would who smash a cute yellow butterfly? Famous last words.)

A girl with blonde, slightly curled hair, books wrapped in her arms, was making her way passed us on her way across the courtyard. She saw the yellow of my wings, paused for a moment, and then came towards us to get a better look at me, her long black skirt swishing around her ankles.

When she got to my master's table she smiled, her blue eyes watching me and said, a cooing quality to her voice, as if she was looking at a puppy or a kitten,

"Oh, its so cute."

My master looked up from his book, he had been rather focused on it, and while I knew he'd probably rather go back to reading, he was generously polite to the girl when she asked, "How do you get it to stay there like that?"

"I do not do anything really," he said, watching her watching me, "I just hold still and it comes."

I fluttered my wings gently for her. She held her breath, afraid I may fly off, but relaxed and smiled again when I didn't move.

Unfortunately, this was about the time when the girl's jock boyfriend came wandering over to see where his girlfriend had got to. I could tell by his face that he didn't like it that she was talking to Ptolemy, or watching me for that matter. I stilled myself. This situation could get extremely dire if this boy meant to do all the things his body language was saying.

"What are you doing?" he asked the girl when he approached the table, feeling like his territory was being threatened.

The girl straightened, she could tell by the boyfriend's posture that he didn't like what she was doing, so she addressed him.

"We were just talking about this butterfly, Charlie." She said, gesturing lightly to me.

Charlie's eyes narrowed at me. He wasn't pleased, probably thinking I was just an excuse for the girl to talk to Ptolemy. Perhaps I was, but despite that, I would not allow any harm to come to my master. I held still, and Ptolemy's hands tightened lightly on his book.

He didn't want anyone to get hurt, but he'd fight if he had to. With words if not strength.

Charlie scoffed and said nastily, "Yeah right."

He didn't accuse the girl outright, but I could tell what he was thinking.

Ptolemy could tell as well and he tried to calm the boy for the girl's sake.

"Now there is no need to accuse anyone, sir." He said, serenely, holding his hands in a calmly manner, "She is telling the truth.'

The girl nodded.

Charlie ignored them.

"Anyway," Charlie said, glaring at me, but talking to the girl, "If this stupid bug gets your attention so easily then we might as well take it with us."

Then he started to reach down to grab me with his ruff grip. I could have tried to fly, but he wanted to hurt me and I was worried he'd just swat me out of the air before I got clear. I didn't want to, but if this boy, who didn't have the faintest idea how to handle my delicate butterfly body, got to close I would change form.

It might label Ptolemy as an outsider, and I didn't want to do that to him, but I didn't want to be crushed.

To her credit, the girl tried to jump to my rescue.

"Don't Charles." She said, tugging at the boyfriend, "You'll hurt it!"

He ignored her. His hand was coming closer, but I wanted to wait to the last moment. If I couldn't help alienating Ptolemy then I would change, but not before. I stiffed as I felt a think finger just brush against the tip my yellow wing, hearing the membranes of the wing straining against the pressure.

A hand came down, but it wasn't Charlie's. It was Ptolemy's.

"Stop!" My master said, standing up, his hand blocking the hand that would have crushed me. I sighed quietly and, hidden by their hands, changed into a wisp of smoke so I could float out of danger. With any luck, the girl and her boyfriend would think I had flown away.

I had been more concerned of being smashed to keep my eyes on Ptolemy, but now that I had a chance to look, my master looked rather angry.

"How dare you." He said, his eyes hard, voice calm and steady, 7 (It was the kind of voice that was more threatening than a scream. When you hear that voice, you wished he'd just yell so you won't feel like he could crush you with the weight of his words) "What right do you have to take another creature's life? It was doing no harm to you."

Charles' yanked his hand back, his fists clenched and he glared. He was mad as well, but he only had his physical muscle to back him up.

"Well who do you think you are?" Charlie asked, his voice just below a roar, a nasty look on his face, "Trying to steal my girlfriend from right under my nose!"

"I was doing no such thing." My master replied, his hands dropping to his sides, "We were only talking, nothing more."

"Like hell you weren't!" the boyfriend yelled, aiming to hit my master.

That was the deciding factor to my problem.

I moved and changed.

There was a sound as if a bag of flour had just been hit and Charles' fist stopped five inches away from my master's nose.

Ptolemy didn't even flinch, he just stared ahead, back straight, eyes dark and hard.

The boyfriend was no magician, and due to the fact that he had no lenses, he could not see my essence stopping his attack. He was confused at first, not understanding why his fist hadn't made contact with his target. He tried to push his fist closer to Ptolemy but it wouldn't move, so he tried to pull back.

He couldn't.

His confusion was replaced by worry as he tugged again.

He couldn't pull away his paralyzed limp.

"What?" he said, his voice small as he tried to pull his arm away from me but I held on, keeping it perfectly still. He had made a mistake trying to hurt Ptolemy. I was determined to make Charles pay for his mistake.

Luckily, Ptolemy, who did not care to wear his magician lenses, could not see me. If he didn't know what I was doing, then if he was questioned about what had happened he could plead ignorance.

"W-What have you done?" the boyfriend questioned my master, his voice cracking with fear as he continued to pull.

The girl's eyes had gotten very wide and Ptolemy stayed motionless, the look on his face never wavering. He didn't speak, he just looked with those deep, dark, hard eyes. At the time, even though he did not like violence, I think my master wanted Charles to be punished just as much as I did.

However, I wouldn't hurt the boy, just frightened him a little.

He was frightened. His breathing was getting faster as he panicked and the occasional whine would come from his throat. He was deathly afraid of the thing he couldn't see and as he continued to try and pull away, so frightened that he was probably willing to lose his arm if that meant I would let go of him, I reached out and supported his shoulders from behind. I didn't need him to pull his shoulder out.

"Shhh." I hissed in his ear, my face splitting into a smile he couldn't see. He froze and quieted at my voice, at the touch of my hands, his eyes wide and afraid.

"Now be silent and listen," I said quietly, my voice smooth and cold, and he nodded, mutely. "You will turn around, walk away, and never bother him again. Understand?"

I didn't need to explain who "him" was, Charles knew because he nodded mutely once again, shivering in my grip.

I chuckled darkly as released him. He stumbled back but kept his balance and didn't giving anyone, including himself, a chance to say anything; he just turned on his heal and ran. The girl watched him go, but Ptolemy was already silently packing up his books and turning to leave.

I followed my master as he walked away; and we left the blonde, blue-eyed girl alone in the courtyard with the wind and the silence.

----

If there's one thing I've learned about humans is that 1.) they love to gossip and that 2.) rumors fly fast. Ptolemy ignored them, but I couldn't. I couldn't in Egypt, and I couldn't here, even if it was only classroom banter.

The rumors started innocently enough, simple questions or speculations of what really happened, but by the end of the day they had grown into unbelievable stories. I heard one of these stories from two boys who were talking in the hallway.

"Hey, did you hear?" the one asked, "My friend said that a boy was mauled by another kid's thoughts!"

"His thoughts?" the other boy said skeptically, a disbelieving look on his face, "Oh come on, you're pulling my leg."

"No, no." the first boy said, "My friend saw it with his own eyes. The boy tried to punch the other kid in the face and some invisible force mauled him. I'm telling you, that kid has something powerful on his side."

The second boy looked nervous now and asked, "What was the kid's name?"

The first boy wet his lips and whispered the name to his friend, "Jones."

It was about this time that my master looked over at them while he was walking by, and they grew quiet and stared, waiting until he had passed before they began talking again.

I sighed and shook my head. I knew this was going to happen. One of the reasons the magician's had put themselves in places of power in the first place was so that they didn't need to hide what they really were. But now that England, at least, was changing, Ptolemy was being treated the same way he had been in Egypt.

_You are a sorcerer who consorts with demons._

Unless something happened to change those rumors then my master would be alienated, persecuted, and maybe even feared and despised.

For the rest of the day Ptolemy went to his classes and I perched as a spider in a corner, hoping that the rumors would not led any of the teachers to falsely accuse my master.

Luckily, none of the teachers or staff asked him what had happened. Some came close, and some gave worried looks, but they didn't ask. None of the staff had seen me "maul" Charlie and no one had told, so they could do nothing since they could not act on silly rumors.

Then, shortly before three thirty, the girl from before found Ptolemy on his way out of the school.

"Hey," she called, raising her hand to get his attention, "Wait please."

Ptolemy stopped at the doors and waited for her, while I poked my head out of his schoolbag. 8 (I was a mouse at the time.)

The girl walked towards my master, brushed her hair back, and began speaking.

"Um… Mr. Jones?" she asked, her mouth pressed into a worried line, nervous as she looked down at her fingers.

I wriggled the mouse's nose. At first glance the girl may have seemed afraid, but that wasn't the case. She was unsure and slightly embarrassed of course, but her human body was also a bit warm, and it wasn't from the walk. She bit her bottom lip lightly, sneaking a quick glance at the boy who stood in front of her from underneath her lashes. From the way she was acting I could tell at least one thing about her.

This girl had a crush on my master.

The mouse blinked, buried itself deeper into the school bag and ignored the girl. Why should I care if Ptolemy was the subject of a schoolgirl's crush? A simple crush didn't last for long anyway and besides I had kissed Ptolemy. She hadn't. I had the upper hand, but…

The girl stuttered and Ptolemy took pity on her.

"It's all right," he said, "You may call me Ptolemy if you wish."

I looked to see her reaction. The girl looked up, her body relaxing, and she smiled at his kindness. She took a breath.

"I-I just wanted to say that I think you did the right thing, Ptolemy." She said, "Charlie had no right to try to hurt you and he deserved what was coming to him. I don't blame you."

Ptolemy nodded.

"Thank you," He said, a small smile on his face, "Miss?"

"Vanessa," She said, smiling as she turned away, "Vanessa Palmer."

_Butterfly._

The mouse's eyes narrowed as she walked away, a car horn beeped, and my master went out to Kitty's car.

--------------------------------

The next few days were, eventful, to say the least.

The rumors continued on their destructive path throughout the school. They spread like wild fire and some of the lies made me grit my teeth. I was uncomfortable and edgy, and while I knew how to deal with the rumors about my master's goals and character, 9 (I had experience with those before) I could not over look the lies forming around Ptolemy and Vanessa.

The rumors said that they were becoming a couple.

I couldn't overlook such a lie because I understood why the people had started talking about it.

My master and the girl were very different. His hair was a dark black while hers was a light blonde. His eyes were as deep and dark as the bottom of the Nile River and hers where as bright and as blue as the sky. His tan skin contrasted sharply against her pale flesh and due to the rumors of attack, Ptolemy was being stereotyped as the sensual bad boy while Miss butterfly was the sweet virgin in a white dress.

He was dark while she was fair and they made a pretty picture, anyone could see that.

Also, as fuel for the rumor mill, Vanessa had taken to sitting with Ptolemy at lunch, her little schoolgirl crush making my essence clench as she giggled and played the innocent angel while Ptolemy, who did nothing to stop the rumors, actually enjoyed Vanessa's company.

I sighed.

If Ptolemy returned her feelings and it actually came down to him wanting to be with her instead of me, then I wouldn't stand in his way. I wanted him to be happy, but that didn't mean I had to share that happiness.

In a way, I was acting just like Faquarl and Nouda. They had been so obsessed with getting their revenge that they had cut themselves off from the Other Place, never to return. They had been filled with anger, pain, and bitterness. They had let the human world twist and poison their essences, and I was the same.

I was in love with Ptolemy and because of that I was so attached to him that when he died the first time, I had become cynical, sarcastic, and even bitter to deal with his death. He was like a drug to me, something that did my essence harm but I craved all the same. He made me happy, yes, but I also felt incredibly angry with anyone who would hurt him, and horribly distressed if I did anything to harm or displease him.

I was also jealous.

Horribly, raving jealous of a schoolgirl.

I watched as Ptolemy smiled softly and was nice to her, and she'd never talk his ear off or be annoying to him in anyway. She almost seemed to good to be true.

I pressed my lips into a line and stayed quiet, but I wasn't fooled for a second, not by her.

I kept my eyes on her, glaring at her when she wasn't looking my way, and I decided that if she ever tried to hurt Ptolemy, whether physically or emotionally, then I would do to her what everyone "thought" I had done to Charlie.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I really was like Faquarl.

Unfortunately, Vanessa and the rumors weren't the only things I had to worry about.

My master had been having some, unsettling, dreams as of late. Sometimes they would be minor and only cause him to react in small ways. A tightness of his lips, tenseness in his form, small things, but occasionally these dreams would cause him to react in larger ways.

It surprised me, the first time he did it.

I had been sitting near the window, thinking, watching the clouds pass in front of the moon. He had been in a deep sleep, not troubled in the slightest, then suddenly, his eyes had snapped open and he had quickly sat up, fully awake.

He didn't make any noise; he just breathed in the cold night air for a moment, his eyes wide and his hands clenched into the blankets. I had moved from the window and asked him what was wrong. I expected some type of answer, but he just turned his head and stared at me for a moment, then shook his head.

"I'm fine." He had said in the dark, voice just loud enough for me to hear. "It's nothing."

Then he slowly lay down again to sleep, eyes staring at the ceiling. He fell asleep right after, but I kept a close eye on him for the rest of the night.

I had expected this. If he had dreamed about the Other Place when I hadn't been in the human world, then what was he dreaming now that I was here?

He never told me what he dreamed, and I didn't push him to tell. I was sure I would find out soon enough.

A little more confusing, but mostly harmless, was the habit Ptolemy had taken of accidentally slipping foreign words into his speech.

The first time he did it was on a Wednesday afternoon and, while he was studying in the dining room of the house, I had confided in him my concern about the rumors.

"It is only false talk, my friend," he had said, "I am not worried, for as soon as they have nothing to fuel their lies, then the rumors will disappear."

"But what of the people?" I had asked, "What if they believe what they are told and act on it? What if someone comes seeking revenge on you?"

He looked up from his book, cocked his head in that way of his, and smiled.

"I have no fear for my safety," he said, "Because I know you will always be by my side, Rekhyt, and besides you shouldn't worry so, I am sure the rumors will die by the end of the renpet."

I blinked and looked at him as he paused, confusion painted across his face, the foreign word still on his tongue.

His mouth had said "renpet", but his mind had said "year".

He was speaking Ancient Egyptian.

It seemed like his past life was catching up to him quicker then I had imagined.

He stayed still, gazing at the table, frozen, confused about what he had just said, so to ease his tension I said, smiling,

"Neat trick. Where'd you learn that?"

He didn't answer me right a way, but his voice came eventually, "I-I do not know."

His eyes hardened in thought, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get him to speak to me, so I let him think and didn't bother him.

----

The days slowly passed like this, rumors growing, Vanessa, nightmares, the Egyptian language, and I tried to take all of it all in with a calm and relaxed manner.

Needless to say, I failed miserably, and because of that everything fell apart.

It was Thursday, lunchtime, and my master and Vanessa were sitting in the courtyard. Ptolemy had an open book in his hands and while he read it silently, so did Vanessa, the girl reading over his shoulder.

I was a wasp, hovering and buzzing between the leafy branches of a nearby tree. I didn't like that the girl was sitting so close to my master, her head almost resting against his shoulder, her fingers lightly touching his arm.

I landed on a thin branch and resisted the urge to fly over and sting her.

Vanessa smiled, her eyes moving from the print on the page to Ptolemy and she whispered something to him. I wasn't sure what she had said since I was to far away and she had been rather quiet, but Ptolemy turned his head to look at her.

Then, right before my eyes, the butterfly girl smiled again and lunged, her mouth crushing against Ptolemy's lips.

I wasn't shocked. After all, the girl had a rather overbearing crush on my master, and it was only natural for her to want to kiss him. I stared as Ptolemy's eyes widened, shock painted across his face and I expect him to push her off, push her away.

But he didn't.

He just sat there, letting her fondle him, his hands slowly coming up to rest on her shoulders and something inside of me let out a quiet, keening cry. My essence painfully cracked and my unfeeling observation of the whole spectacle quickly seeped away, leaving me feeling miserable and broken. I shut my eyes and turned away so I couldn't watch.

Him and her.

Not he and me.

I loved Ptolemy, and because of that I wanted him to be happy. If that meant that I had to disappear, then so be it.

As I perched there, in that tree, hidden between the leaves, the sadness was slowly eaten away, and a somewhat selfish thought came to mind.

Yes, he deserved to be happy, even if it was with her, but what about… what about me? What about my happiness, my life? Didn't I deserve to be content, just as much as anyone else? What was so different about me that made me not worthy in his eyes?

I realized then, as my translucent wings twitched and a heated anger began to build inside, what was wrong with me. I almost let out a bitter laugh because of the reason, but held it in.

I was Bartimaeus, Sakhr al-Jinn, N'gorso the Mighty, Serpent of the Silver Plumes, a djinni. I would do anything and give him anything he wished. If he wanted me to kill thousands I would do it without blinking. If he wanted me to love him I gladly would. If he wanted me to disappear forever I would do that to. If he wanted me to be someone or something else I would. I could be anything he desired me to be, but I could not be human.

I was a spirit of the Other Place.

I wasn't human. I could look human, I could act relatively human, but no matter how hard I tried, I would never, truly, be human. I didn't deserve happiness because, to him and all other magician's throughout time, I was just another spirit. I was their slave, to be used and abused as they saw fit until my essence was finally destroyed and I could have peace.

I was also a demon who could not be trusted. A sinful, cursed, wrathful demon that was feared and despised.

My anger devoured me, heart and mind alike, and as the madness rose up and consumed me I buzzed furiously, to agitated to even think straight.

He was just like the others, just like the magicians who had come before and would come after him. Horrible, wretched humans that forced me to do their biding, raped me of my freewill and then betrayed me, cast me aside when they saw fit to do so.

However, despite this I would not hurt him. The thought of standing in his room, moonlight pouring over the floorboards, glaring over my shoulder at sightless dark glazed eyes, cold white skin, a pool of red moonlighted blood forming under a prone slender form that lay on the wood, still sickened me. I couldn't do that, not to him. But, I convinced myself, if I ever laid eyes on him again, if he ever had the nerve to summon me again, I would punish him for his actions.

I was so angry and heartbroken and lost, that I couldn't stand being there, watching them, so I changed into a falcon and flew from the tree, not caring if anyone saw me leave.

I just wanted the pain to stop.

The London air was cold and damp from a recent rain so as I flew straight up through the clouds, trying to reach the boundaries of the sky, I felt ice begin to form on my feathers. The cold air soaked down into the core of my essence making me feel numb, empty, and I was glad for it.

I didn't care where I was going, didn't care that I had left Ptolemy behind, didn't care that I had promised Kitty that I would protect him. The world could have frozen over and I wouldn't have cared.

I just flew on, trying to kill the pain inside.

Eventually, as the air grew thin and I reached the edge of the sky, my wings grew heavy with ice crystals and I couldn't keep myself up. My essence felt sore and stiff, and since I had nothing to return to, I let out a falcon's screech, forcing all my pain into that one scream, and then my ice-encrusted wings folded in on me.

I fell towards earth like a stone, letting gravity have its way with me.

Then, as the ground rushed up to greet me, my awareness fled and I fell into darkness.

------------------------------------------

He was gasping as he ran, breath labored from having to run the whole way, but he was almost there, almost home, almost to the summoning pentacle. The road was still wet, and he had to be careful about not slipping and falling, but he knew he had to get home as soon as possible. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he didn't.

He had been a fool.

He should have never let Vanessa get that close to him. He knew Bartimaeus was nearby, watching him, but he didn't think Vanessa would be so eager to kiss him.

He had meant to push her off, but he knew that she liked him and he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He did eventually push her away but unfortunately, because he took so long to react, Rekhyt misunderstood and now the djinni was gone, angry and most likely in a huge amount of emotionally pain.

Ptolemy's only hope would be to summon his friend and try to explain. He only hoped it wasn't too late.

His mother wasn't home yet, so he rushed through the dining room, took the stairs two at a time and ran into his room. Only then, when he had gotten to the edge of the pentacle, did he pause to regain his breath.

Ptolemy only paused for a moment before he began the summons.

The words were smooth and easily flowed from his mouth as he spoke despite his lack of breath, but the ease in which he summoned barely hid the fact that he was more frightened then he had ever been.

What would he find when he summoned Bartimaeus? The djinni could be injured or worse, and on the upside, even if he wasn't hurt, Ptolemy could be facing a rather angry and powerful spirit.

Not to mention heartbroken.

While he spoke, one of Ptolemy's hands came up to rest over his own heart.

Yes, he knew that his Rekhyt would be heartbroken, for the sin that he had committed against the djinni was a horrible one to inflict on a being that seemed to care for his master so much that it was love.

Ptolemy knew, on the day of the attack at the shop, that Rekhyt loved him, for the boy had acted on impulse and instead of becoming mad or disgusted, Bartimaeus kissed him back, and the spirit had savored it.

At that time, Ptolemy had only know the djinni for a couple of days, and the same could be said of Bartimaeus, so why was it that the spirit seemed to know the magician child? Why was it that when Ptolemy had acted on impulse with a sense of deja vu, feeling like Bartimaeus was going somewhere and may not come back, the djinni had accepted? Why was it that he felt like he was falling in love with Bartimaeus, a shape shifting spirit that he saw in his dreams?

So many questions he couldn't answer.

The summoning finished and a small body formed in the pentacle. The breath Ptolemy had regained did very little to sustain him when his body decided to hold his breath at the sight.

The falcon that had appeared in the circle, splayed out on the wooden floor on its back like a shot animal, was Bartimaeus. Ptolemy knew it was because he had called the spirit's name during the summonings, but that didn't help to take away any of the disbelief.

The spirit was unconscious, limp wings stretched out along the floor, eyes closed, and a clear liquid was pooling around the underside of the djinni, almost as if his essence was bleeding from his body.

Ptolemy resisted the urge to scream and instead moved closer, his hands coming in contact with wet, soft feathers.

Bartimaeus was ice cold to the touch, but the feathers seemed stable enough. Ptolemy bit his bottom lip and tried to think. If his Rekhyt was not losing form, then that meant that the spirit was not dying. A small ice crystal slowly slid from one of the falcon's feathers and into Ptolemy's palm and the boy understood.

The liquid wasn't essence. It was water.

The magician let himself take a breath in thankfulness but soon got back to trying to arouse the unconscious spirit.

"Rekhyt?" he questioned, his fingers sliding gently through sleek brown feathers, trying to ease a response from his friend, "Rekhyt, please wake up."

The bird's body stirred, ice melting from its form and one yellow eye snapped opened, sharply focused on the child and the falcon quickly made to stand up, feathers ruffled, talons scraping at the floor or flailing in mid air.

Ptolemy quickly pulled his hands back as the sprit righted itself and when Bartimaeus had gotten to his feet the spirit glared with yellow eyes at his master and spoke,

"Hesy mes." he hissed with a closed mouth, the voice seemly coming from every direction, filling the air with its hurtful words.

Ptolemy didn't speak right away; he could tell that the djinni was horribly angry, but the boy stood his ground, his memories somehow helping him interpret the djinni's words.

"I am not a wretched child, Rekhyt." The boy said, stern but calm, his fingers curling into his palms.

The spirit laughed, deep, dark, and mirthless and changed its form into a girl with blond hair and blue eyes. She sat on the floor, inside the pentacle; her pale legs crossed in front of her and cleared her throat daintily. She would have looked innocent and angelic if not for the leering eyes and smirking mouth the spirit had on its face.

Ptolemy was unmoved; he kept his back straight, dark eyes narrowed softly.

"Vanessa" spoke.

"There is a reason you mortals call us demons." She said, studying her nails as if she was only talking about the weather and could afford such distractions, "Do you know what it is?"

"It is because people misunderstand you." Ptolemy stated.

"Yes," the girl mused, her mouth forming a pout while she looked at her fingers, "You would think that, wouldn't you? But you are wrong."

She waved one of her fingers, first to the right, then the left, making a tsking noise to show that the boy had made a mistake before she spoke again.

"You call us demons because we are crafty, sinful, and can not be trusted. We are not human, so we do not follow human rules, and are dishonest."

"That isn't true." The magician said, his voice rising slightly, "It is only the way spirits are treated that cause them to be untrustworthy. They are not sinful by nature."

The girl moved, to quickly for the boy's eyes to see, and suddenly she was close enough that if she had breath Ptolemy would feel it on his face.

"Do you really believe that?" she questioned, her hand reaching out towards him, her other arm slinking around his back, locking him in place, "Like I said before we are not human, child, and no matter how much you wish it… we never will be."

The girl smiled, soft fingers running through his hair, along his jaw, yet still he remained motionless.

When he was a young boy, his mother told him stories about the exploits she had experienced when she was a young girl. She told him about the resistance, and the magician Nathaniel who had given up his own life to save her city. Ptolemy listened with rapt attention, his young eyes wide, always wanting to learn more about his mother's past. Then, when he reached the age of twelve years, he made the decision that he wanted to be a full fledge magician, going above the basics of summoning his mother had taught him, and so she told him about the djinni Bartimaeus.

Something clicked at that moment, something deep inside Ptolemy that he hadn't realized was there, came to life, and he wanted to know more about this spirit that had helped his mother and Nathaniel save London. She told him everything she knew but for some reason it wasn't enough to sate his curiosity. So, he planned to summon the spirit.

His mother had not wanted him to summon the djinni, not even to try. It wasn't as if she didn't think he could, and it wasn't because she was afraid, but she had been worried that her son would be disappointed when the djinni didn't show.

She said that Bartimaeus was dead.

She said that he had been destroyed when the spirit Nouda had murdered Nathaniel.

But Bartimaeus was not dead. Oh no, he was alive, because the spirit was teasing its master, its fingertips gently brushing against his lips, tempting him, coaxing him into giving in, to respond to its touch, and Ptolemy didn't want to hold still. He wanted to respond, to close his eyes, wrap his arms around that neck and let the djinni have its way with him, no matter what that way was. He wanted all this because it was Bartimaeus, his Rekhyt, not Vanessa and the spirit was warm and alive. It took almost all of the magician's will to refuse, because he knew that if he reacted then he would fail the djinni's test and it would prove to Bartimaeus, no matter how wrong he was, that Ptolemy cared for Vanessa more then the spirit.

"You're lying." Ptolemy stated, tranquil and still, and Bartimaeus laughed again, deep and dark like chocolate.

"Lying is what demons do, boy." The spirit said, "You should remember that if there is a next time."

Ptolemy stayed still; he wouldn't be intimidated by a hollow threat.

"You won't hurt me." He said, looking the spirit in the eyes, seeing the yellow under the blue, "You love me to much."

At those words Bartimaeus' form stiffen for a fraction of a second, and while a less trained eye would have missed it, Ptolemy saw.

The spirit sneered at his mistake, and said, an almost snap in his voice,

"Like the way she loves you?"

The boy didn't need to ask who "she" was, he already knew, so he kept quiet, and the girl quickly reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Do you wish you could be with her?" The spirit murmured, lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear, the tone of voice almost accusing, "Do you dream about her?"

Ptolemy closed his eyes. This little interrogation had gone on long enough. Moving slowly and smoothly, the boy raised his arms and when his palms came in contact with the spirit's shoulders he pushed back, pushed the girl away from him.

Bartimaeus offered no resistance, it almost seemed like he wanted to be pushed away.

"No," the boy said softly, his hands still resting on the djinni's shoulders, keeping the spirit an arms length away from him, "I dream about you, Rekhyt."

That was the truth, because he did dream about the djinni. Rekhyt haunted the landscape of his dreams, a place of sand and heat that was set in a time very different then his own. He dreamed of sitting and talking with the spirit in this place and time, dreamed of the djinni leading him by the hand through the alleyways of a Egyptian city in the noonday sun, dreamed of a time when he stared out a window over a large river, waiting for his friends return.

Then, more recently, he dreamed of incensed darkness and moonlight, a warm form and silk sheets, yellow eyes and whispered words. He dreamed of warm hands on his body, gliding down his skin and easing him into mewling in pleasure like a kitten. He dreamed of a pain that shot through him and made him hiss his Rekhyt's name, but the pain was sweet and when it died he felt whole, somehow. He dreamed of feeling needed, wanted, loved until the end of time.

He dreamed of Bartimaeus, his dearest Rekhyt, who was his friend…but once was something more.

He had started having these "dreams" when he was about twelve years of age, but they had never been so numerous before. However, they had always been exceedingly detailed and vivid, always, and so he knew they couldn't just be dreams.

Not when he felt as if he really knew Bartimaeus even though he have never met the spirit before in his life.

Not when his body kept reacting to things Rekhyt said or did with no clear explanation.

Not when he awoke at night and could only stare at the djinni who protected and cared for him.

No, they couldn't "just" be dreams.

They were definitely something more, and even though he wasn't completely sure what that something more was, he had an idea and a way to figure out if he was right.

However, first he need to make a decision, and he had to make it soon because Bartimaeus was watching him with narrowed eyes and if he did not speak and give his answer then he could very possibly lose his friend forever.

Ptolemy took a breath, eyes still closed, hands dropping from the spirit's shoulders.

So, first the question needed to be asked.

Did he care about Vanessa? Did he love her?

The answer was simple.

No, he did not love her. She was a friend, nothing more, and despite her attempts to snog him, he did not like her in that way.

So what was left for him?

He opened his eyes, and saw his Rekhyt watching him. The narrowed eyes had softened slightly, curious about why his master had been quiet for so long, lost in the thoughts of his dreams. The spirit, although still angry, was still his friend, his djinni, his Rekhyt.

His dearest Rekhyt.

Internally, making sure it didn't show on his face, Ptolemy smiled.

His decision had been made. He just needed to be sure before he spoke to Bartimaeus; he wanted something solid to base his theories on so he didn't make a mistake.

He took another deep breath before speaking.

"Rekhyt…." He only paused for a second, just enough time to wonder if he was making the right choice. What if he was wrong? He could be making a mistake that could never be fixed. He had caused so much pain for his friend, he didn't know if Bartimaeus could handle another blow should his master be wrong. What if he made Bartimaeus even angrier? What if he caused Rekhyt even more pain?

Ptolemy's fingers curled into his palms, steeling himself.

No, he had to know. He would never be able to prove his theory if he didn't try, didn't ask. He had to understand, both for Rekhyt's and his own sakes. He swallowed his fear and spoke, keeping his voice steady.

"Rekhyt, who was Ptolemaeus of Alexandria?"

Bartimaeus didn't speak; he seemed frozen, body perfectly still as he stared at the boy in front of him. The anger had drained away, leaving the djinni looking stunned, eyes wide, mouth set in a line, almost like he was afraid of something. The spirit's eyes unconsciously flicked from blue to yellow and the temperature in the room sharply dropped.

The air grew bitter cold as the warmth was sucked out of the air and ice started to appear. The ice formed much to quickly to be natural as it raced along the floor, freezing the wood and climbing the walls. The ice cracked and spread quickly over the glass of the windows, locking its occupants inside.

Bartimaeus was freezing the room.

Ptolemy brought his hands to his chest, trying to keep the warmth of his body from escaping into the air. He was deathly cold, his breath coming out as wisps of mist. His body tried to keep him warm by shivering, but the air was so cold it felt sharp and it was hard to breathe.

He had felt something like this before, hadn't he? He remembered telling someone about it, a time when he was very young, newborn, and he had been horribly cold. He had almost died. But, wait, that wasn't right, was it? He had been born in a hospital in Cairo, and it had been safe, warm. His mother had been there, hadn't she?

"Stop." He said, just enough air in his lungs to whisper, "Please stop."

------------------------

When I had fallen from the sky, I should have hit the ground, the bird's body broken and seemly lifeless on the cement, but when I woke up to find myself inside a pentacle, warm and safe on a wooden floor, I knew what had happened.

My master had summoned me, and I knew what I had to do.

He had betrayed me by not leaving me be, so I would see him punished for his transgressions.

I treated him badly, viciously attacking him mentally and emotionally, killing the trust and hope in him as I killed myself. I was just so angry and I reacted without thinking. I changed into Vanessa and threw his sins back in his face. I wanted him to feel the way I did, and maybe… maybe part of me wanted to be proved wrong. I wanted to know that he didn't really care for her, and even if it was a lie, even if he looked at me and lied right to my face, I wanted to believe that he saw me as more than just his slave.

Then, he pushed me away and told me.

_I dream about you, Rekhyt._

I stopped then, because I knew that he wasn't lying. He had told me, before he even knew her name that he dreamed of me. I knew he wasn't lying.

Then, he asked a question.

_Rekhyt, who was Ptolemaeus of Alexandria?_

I froze. The world seemed to tip sideways and as my mind unfocused, those words echoing inside, I starting pulling all of the heat out of the air, making the room freeze.

I was afraid.

If I told him, if I told him about his past life and the Other Place, his gateway, what would he do, how would he react? Would he think I was insane, or would he actually believe me? I didn't want to frighten him with the truth, but I didn't want the past to repeat itself. I didn't want to lose him again, but I knew he wouldn't let me lie.

I couldn't lie, but what if he blamed me? What if he learned about his death? Would he accuse me of not protecting him, blame me for my mistakes that led to my dismissal and his murder?

I didn't know if I could tell him. I was too terrified of what would happen.

At the time, I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing. I knew the room was growing cold, I just didn't notice how much until…

_Please stop._

I blinked, the world righted itself at his quiet, whispered words, and the coldness instantly rushed away. The air grew warm again, and Ptolemy gasped, the cold air no longer stabbing his throat and lungs. Ice melted from the windows and walls, puddles formed on the floor and dried, and I… I looked at the shivering form in front of me.

What had I done?

I moved then and when he did not move away I gently put my hands on his shoulders to warm him, say I was sorry.

Sorry, sorry, so sorry, always sorry. I didn't mean it, I am sorry.

I frowned, my hands gently running over his jacket covered back, trying to bring the warmth back into his body after I had leeched it out of him like a parasite.

Why were things like this? Ever since Kitty's son summoned me I had been taking one step forward and two steps back. I would make a mistake, I would apologize, and he would forgive me with his kind heart. But how many apologizes could his heart take? Eventually I wouldn't be able to mend him with an 'I'm sorry.' It was time to stop the cycle.

Ptolemy continued to shiver, even though my hands were still moving, and I could feel how cold he was through his clothes.

He was so cold.

Yes, the cycle needed to stop now. Even if he was willing to forgive me I wasn't willing to let him. I had hurt him too much this time, and I wasn't worthy of forgiveness.

"Master," I said, trying to keep for voice neutral, "Dismiss me."

At my words his body suddenly stopped moving and he became completely still, not even a quiver giving him away. He knew what I meant. Total dismissal, so he'd never suffer from my presence again. When he looked at me his eyes were empty pools of dark water, and his body was taut like a bowstring, back straight and tense, and my essence felt like a lead weight for making him look at me like that.

He was in pain, but at my words he smiled wistfully, trying to hide his pain from me, and spoke.

"I understand, my friend," he said, and even though his voice was calm and steady, I could feel the tremble under his words, "So if you wish it, I will…"

He trailed off, but I knew that he had given his consent for my dismissal, so I was content.

"Thank you." I said, and I looked away from him as I moved my hands away from him.

He was right to choose her over me because I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve his time, his words, his kiss or his touch. I didn't deserve any of it.

I didn't deserve him.

He was right to desert me because I was doing nothing but causing him pain.

It was better this way.

Ptolemy took a breath, but just before he began the dismissal he said, "I will miss you, Rekhyt."

I shrugged like nothing mattered, and in truth, nothing did, not anymore.

I wouldn't say goodbye, partings are always more painful when goodbye is said, and I didn't want him to suffer anymore for my sake. However, leaving without speaking to him would be cruel.

"Well," I said, trying to scramble up something to say, "I wish you well in your future endeavors, and I hope you have a happy union with your new…"

I trailed off for a moment, trying to bring myself to say what I knew would save him from me. I swallowed and continued.

"Lover."

Ptolemy blinked in confusion.

"My what?" he inquired, "My friend, what you are talking about?"

"I understand that Miss Palmer is your new lover," I said, still not looking at him.

He stared at me and opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"Don't try to deny it, I was watching you. Now," I said, finally turning to look at him. "Please dismiss me."

I was using Vanessa as an excuse to hide the real reason I wanted to be dismissed, but I didn't think I would be able to explain the real reason to Ptolemy, not if I wanted to keep my resolve from crumbling.

I couldn't stay, not if I was just going to cause him pain.

Two thousand years ago, in the sands of Egypt, things were simpler. I didn't have to worry about what other people thought because they were "below" my master on the social ladder. Ptolemy, while he didn't think of himself as being better than any other living creature, was the Pharaoh's nephew and cousin to the crowned prince of Egypt. The local girls, relatively, stayed away from my master because he was "higher" then they were in the social scale and if they did something to upset him, or the rest of the royal family, their heads may have left their shoulders. However, I was under the radar because I was a spirit. Since I had no family or property I could do nothing to bring gain or disaster to the royal family, besides murdering them all. The pharaoh cared very little whom his nephew shared his bed with, so I was able to stay with my lover and not worry about some human girl coming into my territory.

However, now everything was so difficult. Ptolemy had a mother that loved him, a girl that was willing to take the next step in her relationship with him and here I was, the wrench that was jamming the works. I needed to disappear because I was just making my master's life difficult and painful, and I loved him too much to do that to him.

I had to let him go, to be free to choose his own path. I had gotten in the way before, and it had gotten him killed.

He had died because of me, so I had to let him go.

However, my master didn't want to let go, not yet.

"Rekhyt… you think I…" he said, his voice breathless, and I knew he was having second thoughts about letting me depart.

I had made up my mind and I knew what I wanted. I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to go back to the Other Place. I wanted to go home.

I wanted to forget my pain because I could no longer fight against it.

I, Bartimaeus, was giving in, and so I had to persuade Ptolemy to give up on me as well.

Reaching out a hand, I gently tipped his head until he was looking at me, and rested my forehead softly against his. Then, I spoke again, whispering my wish to him,

"Please release me, hekau," I pleaded, knowing that he understood my words because I could feel his quavering breath, the flutter of his heart rippling through my essence, "Do not bind me here."

Don't make it any harder for me to let you go.

His hands reached towards me, hesitated, and dropped. He didn't speak; he just took a breath, backed away from me, and stood. I watched him move away and he looked at me with slim, Egyptian eyes. Something inside me tensed in warning at that look and his answer to my plea came quicker then I expected. He took another breath.

"Bartimaeus, I charge you to kneel before me." His voice was commanding and durable, unyielding. He wouldn't take no for an answer, and that surprised me.

My eyes quickly locked onto him and I stared. The pentacle he had used to summon me was a couple of steps behind me, useless. He couldn't give me a charge unless I was in that pentacle, and he knew that, but the fact that he was actually ordering "me" like that was unheard of.

"You what?!" I questioned, my eyes wider and voice louder then I would have liked as I quickly stood.

Ptolemy was looking at me, and I could tell by his face that he was expecting me to do what I was told, like some type of pet or a little child.

"Do it or I will have to force you." He demanded, and because I knew that he could follow through with his warning, I narrowed my eyes and did as I was told.

I kneeled on the floor at his feet, my head down, staying silent like a good slave, and I hated myself for it. I felt angry and betrayed because it was him who was ordering me to do such an oppressive action.

I was the demon slave and he was the holy master, and the truth hurt so much more because I loved him.

Why was the world so ironically unfair?

While I was cursing my ill fortune, my master had crouched down as well and was looking at me.

"Djinni," he said, "Let me ask you a question."

I nodded, my eyes narrowed to angry yellow slits, because it was the only thing I was willing to let myself do. I didn't want to be tortured in this way anymore, not with love and betrayal, not with emotional pain. I'd even take the shriveling fire over this type of pain.

"Why do you want me to dismiss you?" he asked.

I sighed heavily. "What do you think?" I mumbled under my nonexistent breath.

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was strong and unwavering, but still soft in some strange way.

"I don't love her." He said, and I smirked.

So, he hadn't chosen her over me, but that still didn't change the fact that I had to leave.

"Well, thank you for sharing that with me." I said, my smirk softening, "But I still want to go home so, dismiss me, now."

His voice was soft then, "But Rekhyt…I…"

"Now." I demanded, and turned around so he was behind me, so I couldn't see his face.

This "battle" wasn't getting us anywhere. Ptolemy had an almost endless reservoir of patience and I… I was endlessly stubborn. We could spend days at a stalemate, neither one of us willing to give in. But Ptolemy wasn't going to wait that long.

My master sighed quietly and, murmured, very softly, "Is that so?"

Something… something about how he said those three little words caught my attention and then his hands were suddenly wrapped around my wrists. I stopped.

He was breathing into the base of my neck, hot little breathes of air against my skin, fingers clenched around my wrists. I frowned.

"What are you doing?" I asked, "Do you think you have enough power to hold me here, child?"

I felt him then, his lips brushing the back of my neck, so gently, and my essence quivered inside at his touch.

"I know that I have hurt you, my friend," he started from behind me, voice calm, "and I know you wish to leave here, but I… I do not wish for you to leave…I…"

Here his head dipped, his forehead resting against my back, and he sighed but it wasn't a sound of sadness, it was a soft, slightly frustrated sigh.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Rekhyt," he said, his voice calm, tired, "There must be something wrong with me."

His hands were still wrapped around my wrists, but they had loosened their hold just enough for me to free myself. However, instead of pulling away I slid my hands back until I could take his hands with my own.

"There is nothing wrong with you." I said, holding his hands, her white skin against his tan.

He shook his head slowly.

"No," he said, "I don't understand so many things, and I don't know what to do. I just don't know."

I looked over my shoulder at him; saw his head buried in my back, and very quietly groaned to myself in frustration.

I was jealous of Vanessa, I was afraid of telling him the past, I didn't want to hurt him anymore then I already had, but all those reasons, all of them, didn't nothing to hide the fact that I didn't really want to leave him. All my reasons were justifications for my actions so I could run away, but they weren't good reasons at all, they were just flimsy excuses, and that was all they'd ever be.

I couldn't stay angry, I couldn't stay silent, I couldn't stop the pain.

I couldn't run away, not anymore.

As I gently clasped his hands in mine, I pulled his hands up towards my mouth. His hands were still gentle, still lithe and soft, but they smelt like her. Not strongly, of course, he hadn't touched her enough to get a very rich scent on his skin, but it was there, and I didn't like that. I wanted to wash that smell away, make it so it would be that she never touched him, but in order to do that I had to convince him to let me touch him enough to drown out her smell, and that would mean I had to give him what he wanted.

I had to tell him. I no longer had a choice.

He lifted his head, tender breathe against the back of my neck, so I moved carefully, smooth and slow, and when he did not pull away I brushed my lips against his skin, kissed his fingertips, oh so gently.

"Don't worry," I softly whispered against his fingers, feeling his breath quiver with longing against my skin, "I'll tell you what you want to know."

I felt the desire and anticipation in his body cause him to shudder lightly against my back, and when I released his hands, he let me go.

I stood, moved away from him and looked at myself. "Vanessa" was a mess. Not only were her eyes the wrong color, but her voice was deeper then it should have been, and there were wood slivers under her finger nails from when I scraped against the wood floor. 10 (That reminded me of a woman I had met when I was in America. She had been the wife of some American president, if I remember correctly. She "died" before her husband and when they went to bury her body next to his they found that she had been clawing at the lid of her coffin, trying to escape being buried alive. Kind of sends chills down your spine, doesn't it?)

I changed and turned to face my master.

The girl disappeared and was replaced by a dark-skinned, fourteen-year-old boy. Ptolemy's eyes widened in surprise and he stood, probably to get a better look.

He had seen this form before, back when he first summoned me with Kitty nearby and when the ghoul djinnis had attacked, but not for long, and not so close, so near.

I smiled and he smiled back, a perfect mirror.

Granted, I was wearing nothing but a wrapped loincloth and a pair of sandals, but other then that my form was a prefect copy of the magician.

"This," I started, spreading my arms so my master could see, the gold bands wrapped around my wrists and neck flashing in the dim light, "Is the Egyptian prince, Ptolemaeus of Alexandria."

Ptolemy nodded, staring at me, and I continued.

"In the year 127 B.C I was summoned by twelve year old Ptolemaeus and was under his charge. He was, unusual, for a magician and at first I didn't trust him. So many magicians before him had used me that I had gotten use to being mistrusted. But he trusted me and because of that I respected him. Eventually we became close, and then… he was gone."

Ptolemy's eyes narrowed in confusion, but I was trying to buy myself some time. I still didn't want to tell him too much about his past life, so I was being vague for a reason.

My master may not have known what that reason was, but I knew he would ask and I couldn't stop him. I could not ignore, impede, or prevent his need to know, so I let him speak, let him come, for he would ask.

He only needed to ask one more question, one more piece of the whole, and my answer would tell him everything.

He looked away from me for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then steeled himself and locked eyes with me.

Ptolemy took a deep breath, filled his lungs, and asked in a rush,

"Rekhyt, was Ptolemaeus your lover?"

I looked back at him, inhumanly still and silent, dark eyes staring into his own, and the boy knew the answer to his question before it left my lips.

"Yes." I breathed.

That was it. That was the answer to his question.

Ptolemy stared at me for another moment, his eyes still narrowed in thought and then, suddenly, his eyes widened and something changed.

Something in his eyes, his body, something about him was different.

His eyes were wide, his body quiet and still and for a moment he didn't even seem to be breathing. He seemed lost in thought, as if he wasn't seeing what his eyes were showing him.

"Ptolemy?" I asked, almost feeling like I was trying to get the attention of a marid that had mercifully forgotten I was there. Then, at my words, my master's eyes shifted to look at me, and I could only stare. His eyes had gone dark and deep and I felt pinned. I stayed completely still, wishing he would say something and come back to me and then, he did.

"I was right." He whispered, almost to low for even myself to hear, a smile beginning to curve on his face, "I was right."

What? I tilted my head in silent question, eyes narrowing slightly and leaded forward just a bit to hear better.

Then, just as was about to open my mouth to ask him what he meant, Ptolemy suddenly started screaming.

"Yes!" He cried happily, startling me, "Yes, I knew it! I was right!"

His eyes had lit up with bliss and he smiled like he had discovered the meaning of life while I just stood there, my mouth hanging open.

This was not the kind of reaction I had expected. Ptolemy was normally a very calm and level headed person, so even though I had seen him get incredible excited before 11 (i.e. about his research and his gateway) the fact that he seemed to be so happy for no obvious reason was a little strange, especially when I had no clue what he was talking about.

"Wait a moment." I said, bringing my hands up to get his attention, "Ptolemy, what are you talking about? Why are you right? What do you know?"

"Oh, Rekhyt, do you not see?" he asked me, beseeching me to understand what he meant, "I had the answers in front of my face the entire time and I did not see it, but everything makes sense now, it is so clear. I finally know what I must do."

He came closer to me then, looking into the face of his own copy with soft eyes and then I understood.

The reason he had changed, the reason why he had looked different, was because something in him had awakened.

There was a wisdom in him, knowledge of the past.

Recognition.

He was remembering, or at least realizing that he had remembered, and I couldn't speak.

"My dearest friend," He said, his voice soft, sounding so happy that he could weep, "The present is built on the past and because of that you have given me a most precious gift. No amount of thanks can tell you how grateful I am for the insight you have let me achieve, and because of you, I understand who I was and who I am."

Then, he reached out to touch me but I took his hands instead, tenderly capturing his fingers within my grasp.

"Then tell me," I said, after I had found my voice, because I almost couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe it was true, "Who are you?"

He smiled, and it truly was a smile of a beautiful happiness, a smile I hadn't really seen in two thousand, one hundred and forty-nine years.

"I am… Ptolemaeus of Alexandria."

My eyes widened, I smiled so widely I thought my face would spilt, and I said, in breathless expectation,

"Tell me what you remember."

To be more comfortable we sat on his bed and as the rest of the ice finally melted and the wooden floor dried he told me.

He remembered Egypt, his uncle, his cousin. He remembered the first time he had summoned me, the times he had talked with me, the first time he had released me from my pentacle. He remembered the human assassins his cousin sent after him, remembered Affa, Penrenutet, and Teti. He remembered his gateway and his trip to the Other Place, but he didn't remember his death, or the death of the other djinni, and for that I was glad. I would have been perfectly content if he never recalled how he had met his end.

He remembered me, remembered the first time I touched him, remembered the time I had to go off to war and had kissed him, remembered how I had returned and…

"Rekhyt," he said, "Before I continue I would like to tell you something."

"Anything."

He frowned, but spoke.

"I have caused you an unbelievably amount of pain, and I am sorry for what I have done to you. I wish to be forgiven, so I will still honor your wishes if you want me to dismiss you."

Some of the happiness dimmed as he continued to speak, the pain that I had seen before, the pain that made his eyes hollow, was coming back.

I faltered then, my smile slipped and I grew quiet for a moment. How could I forgive him when it was I who was the sinner, I who hurt him, I who tried to run away like a coward? 12 (Not saying that running is always the work of cowards, mind you. When you are facing a being that is much stronger then you and can smash you into pulp, then by all means, run for your life! It's what I usually did.)

"What is it?" Ptolemy asked, curious and worried at my reaction.

"Why are you asking if I forgive you?" I said, "I am the one that should be beseeching you for your forgiveness."

"Why?" he asked, his hands touching my shoulders, "You have done nothing wrong."

I almost winced then, hesitated in his kindness and I told him,

"I have made so many mistakes I have lost count, and every time I apologize for one of those mistakes you forgive me, but I know you can not always forgive. I know that someday you will no longer be able to pardon me and I am…"

I grit my teeth, stopping the 'sorry' that was going to escape. 'Sorry' wasn't going to fix this, not again. 'Sorry' couldn't fix anything. I shut my eyes tightly.

I felt Ptolemy's hands on my shoulders, smoothly gilding across my skin, along my neck, and stopping under my jaw to hold my head. I opened my eyes and he smiled kindly at me and spoke.

"I know that you regret your mistakes, my friend, and so, because of that, I will forgive you for all time, no matter what."

"Why?" I asked, breathing out the simple question.

His eyes were soft and dark and when he came closer to me I closed my eyes to listen only to his words.

"You made love to me on silk sheets when you could have very easily taken my life, and so I will forgive because, my most beloved Rekhyt, I love you."

_But I love you, Ptolemy._

_I love you to._

The last time I had heard those words from him, he had been dying, blood leaking from his body as his life drained away, but this time it was different. He wasn't mine, but after two millennia he was safe and alive, and I had waited so long for him. My eyes opened slightly, and I gave my master a slender, seductive look as I smiled wickedly.

Yes, I had waited, locked my heart away because I didn't want to hurt or be hurt, didn't want to forget him, and when I had met him in this life I had strained at my chains, just barely holding on to my sanity. However, now I could unchain myself from my self-imposed shackles. He remembered me, remembered how much I loved him, and he remembered how I had made him mine. I did not have to wait any longer. I felt naughty and sinful with yearning and I wanted to tease him, gently, entice him so that when the time came he would crave release just as much as I did.

"Prove it." I quietly whispered against his lips, eloquent and smiling in sin, "Prove to me that you love me."

I could finally make him mine again, wholly and completely, claim him like I had done two thousand years before. My master would belong to me.

"All right," Ptolemy said, his smile eerily matching mine, "Change into another form if you desire, it does not matter what you choose."

I nodded and stood, backed away from the bed and turned my back to him. Changing was no problem, but what should I become? I wanted to please him, but didn't want to make it to easy for him. Something nice but enticingly nasty that fit my needs would be good, but what?

I looked down at myself and smiled, an idea forming in one of my many consciousnesses. I wanted him to prove that he really loved me, so what better way then to show him what I truly looked like, make him know what he had "really" fallen in love with. My true form, or "truer" form, I should say.

I changed, and my essence took the form of… myself.

Faquarl had tons of tentacles and made ravens die in shock or lose their "Tower of London breakfast special". Queezle had been smoother and had a good amount of dorsal tubes. Most likely, they had been of the water element while I was of wind and fire, so my preferred form was different then theirs.

I didn't look like any type of living thing on earth, but then again, I wasn't suppose to. This was my truer form, so it is kind of hard to explain, but let me just say that my flesh smoldered with heat and when my leather wings unfurled they sounded like a cracking whip.

I looked at my master over my shoulder with yellow eyes and smiled, fangs making their appearance.

Ptolemy stared for a moment, his eyes wide and astonished as I turned and started walking towards him. I stopped about a foot away from him, crouched down to his level since he was still sitting on the bed, and waited for him to make the next move.

He smiled and slowly reached out for me.

"Be careful." I warned gently, his fingers reaching out to touch my skin. I was a fire and air djinni, and while my truer form wouldn't hurt him, my skin was tough as leather and quite warm.

It couldn't be pleasant for him to touch me when I was in this form.

His eyes were studying me, a contemplative look on his face, and he continued to reach until his one hand was rested tentatively against my face, reaching back towards one of my pointed ears, his touch nice and light.

His fingers curled into my hair so I closed my eyes and gently nuzzled his hand, my lips tenderly brushing against the part of his wrist not covered by his jacket.

His skin was warm and sensitive, the pulse of his heart veiled under his flesh, and I craved him.

"I want you so badly," I said, voice velvety smooth, my eyes closed, a purr coming unbidden up my throat.

I heard him laugh kindly and when I felt his other hand under my jaw I opened my eyes for a moment.

"If that is what you desire, fair djinni, then you may have me." He smiled, and kissed me.

My tail shot out straight behind me, and I had to stop my hands form grabbing his shoulders. This wasn't a quick, attentive kiss that you'd give a friend or a cute pet, he was really kissing me, and I was in my truer form!

I realized then that he hadn't been lying when he said that he forgave me. He would forgive me, no matter how many times I messed up, because he truly loved me.

As I pulled back I stood and changed, so when I came back to him his lips would brush against a creature with yellow eyes and tan skin. 13 (Besides, if Kitty came in and saw her son kissing an unknown species, she might call animal control, or at least start worrying about his health and sanity.)

He was sitting on the bed, eyes and body filled with longing as he waited for me, so I came to him and rested between his legs on my knees.

"What is your desire?" I whispered gently in his ear, my hand coming to support the back of his head.

He smiled, his eyes dark and deep as his arms wrapped around my neck. He pulled me down, so I lay over him on the bed and he said the words I wanted to hear.

"You. I want you, Rekhyt."

Then, in the privacy of his room, with only he and I as witnesses, I loved him.

I kissed him slow and sweet, easing him into the feeling of my lips against his and when he was ready he opened his mouth and I slipped my tongue past his lips, causing him to shiver in untainted yearning.

Two thousand years before, I had kissed him, saying the final goodbye. I had been torn away from him, left him for murder and death, and that was it. I should have never laid eyes on him again, never heard, touched, or kissed him again. I was not allowed by fate to love him again. Yet here we were, picking up from where we left off.

His jacket slid from his shoulders, and I took care to go slow because even if he did remember, even if he was wise beyond his years, even if he did crave my love, he was still a child and needed gentle handling. So, after a few moments I broke our kiss, lingering just enough to show I loved him, and let my master fill his lungs with air.

He breathed in soft, little pants, tender and precious, his hands lying against the bed, and as I supported his head in my hands he looked up at me, serene and vulnerable.

I wanted him but I had to be gentle, for his sake and mine, because my essence would depart this life if I lost him, if my love killed him.

It was so strange in a way. Here I was, a five thousand year old djinni of fire and air, a being of the Other Place, and there he was, a human child who had ensnared me with his kindness and curiosity, a being of resurrection and rebirth.

We shouldn't have been in love, in Egypt or otherwise, and yet we were, essence and soul trying to meet through our earthly bonds. We were draw to each other like a moth to the flame, but who was the moth and who was the flame, I couldn't tell you.

Perhaps this was wrong.

Perhaps we caused each other sadness and pain.

Perhaps we should have let each other go.

Perhaps we shouldn't have been together because of what we were.

However, I still loved him and because of that he was mine. Mine to kiss and claim and possess.

Mine to gently tease and entice.

"Answer me this, Ptolemy." I said, voice deep and smooth as I tipped his head, "Do you desire to be possessed by me? Do you wish for me to make love to you?"

With soft eyes he shifted slightly against me while his voice purred, gave a little hum in pleasure and desire and he answered, breathless and soft.

"Yes."

I kissed him then, lingering as I slipped my hands under his shirt, my fingers gliding smoothly up his sides, making his heart begin to speed. I felt his tan skin under my fingertips, warm and smooth, and when my fingers slid down over his skin, over his stomach, slipping past the waistband of his pants to dance near his hips he gasped and shuddered, his hands fisted in the sheets.

I finished the kiss so he could speak.

"Rekhyt." He said, his voice a breathless and quiet hiss, head being thrown back to expose his throat, "Please, do not tease me so."

"Why?" I asked, smiling as my hands moved upward and easily unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt, "Do you have a distaste to being teased, my master?"

I shifted, lowered my head to his exposed skin and tasted his stomach with my lips, letting him feel my ripples of satisfied laughter as he mewled in beautiful ecstasy.

I could feel how his skin grew warm; heart sped, panting for air and I knew that his body was begging to be claimed.

I smiled against his skin.

Then, I heard it, the distant rubble of a car engine coming up the street, and I paused. My smile faded and I lifted my head, my arms supporting me as I leaned over my master and listened. I knew whose car that was; I had been hearing its engine all week.

Silently, I pointed one of my hands toward the door, causing it to swing shut and Ptolemy, who was looking at me with a curious and slightly disenchanted look on his face, opened his mouth to ask me what was wrong. I spoke before he did.

"Your mother's coming." I said, but made no movement to get up.

Kitty was coming home but the choice of whether she learned the truth about us was up to Ptolemy, not me. It was his choice because to other humans, magician and commoner alike, I was the wicked demon while he was either my hapless victim or a lonely child who was possibly insane because he found comfort in me. I was "safe" from the people's views because I was "suppose" to act in a way that proved my sinful temperament and Ptolemy did not have that "luxury". If word of our relationship got out among the people then my master would have to take the brunt of the peoples' abuse and I could do almost nothing to stop it.

I didn't want that to happen to him. I didn't want him to be alienated and hated because of me. Besides, I knew Ptolemy loved me, so I didn't have a problem with being his dirty little secret if I had to be and, personally, I would rather not have Kitty barge in on us and have to tell her straight out that I was sleeping with her son, but as I said, the choice was my masters' and I had no say.

It was his choice.

He sighed, head back against the pillows, eyes shut, but his heart was still pounding, body still heated from my teasing, and I knew that if he chose not to tell her then he'd have a hard time trying to explain our positions.

"How far away is she?" he asked, mind unnerved and anxious, eyes still closed, trying to force his body to calm down but just getting himself more worked up.

I shifted and leaned over him again, my fingers coming up to rest against his lips.

"Don't worry," I said, gently hushing him, trying to help him become quiet and still, tranquil, "If you feel that it would be best not to tell her about us, then it's alright."

He opened his eyes, pupils dilated like a cat's for a few seconds, and I removed my fingers.

"No, Rekhyt." he said, voice soft but determined as he reached up to wrap his arms around my neck, "I love you, I can not ask you to keep quiet for my sake, not if it is going to cause you to feel abandonment."

"It won't." I said, helping him button his shirt, "I understand what is happening and I am prepared for it. Besides, I think it would be for the best if we let your mother figure us out on her own."

Ptolemy turned his head, a slightly sad look on his face. He sighed.

"Yes." He said, "That would do well, especially when I have hurt her so much already."

Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to ask my master what he meant because the front door of the house suddenly opened, closed, and footsteps started coming up the stairs.

I stood and backed away, changing into a slender, graceful Egyptian cat, and watched Ptolemy with yellow eyes from the floor as he sat up, just before the bedroom door opened.

Kitty Jones, Ptolemy's mother, stepped inside and I plastered the biggest smile I could make on my face, just to give my master a little more time.

She looked at me, a look on her face to show curiosity and confusion, and then shook her head, probably thought I was just acting silly, 14 (which I was) and ignored me.

She looked at Ptolemy and crossed her arms.

"I saw your bag downstairs," she said, "Would you like to tell me what you are doing home so early?"

Ptolemy looked at her calmly, but he was nervous, his feelings masked just under his skin and on top of that he was trying to hold his breath so he wouldn't pant.

"I came-" he began, but his body needed to breathe and his lungs decided to use his open mouth to get some air, so he had to start again, "I came home because I-."

It was at this point that Kitty knew something was wrong with her son so she started forward.

"Are you alright?" she asked, a mother's worry filling her eyes, "You seem rather hot."

She placed one of her hands on his forehead and the other on her own to check his temper and that's when I decided to intervene. There was no telling what she would think if one of us didn't speak up.

I walked over and hopped onto the bed.

"I brought him home from school because he has a slight fever." I stated, my tone cut and dry as I sat.

She looked at me.

"A fever?" she asked, one eyebrow rising like she didn't really believe me.

"Yep." I said, and curled my tail around my legs.

She looked at my master, made a humming noise in the back of her throat, and conceded.

"Well, you are a little hot," she said to Ptolemy, removing her hands. To me she asked, "How did you get back here?"

"I carried him." I easily lied; turning my head to look out the window like it was no big deal.

She looked at my master again, saw him panting lightly, the heat rising from his skin, and her mother instincts overrode her suspicion. She straightened.

"Alright then," she said, "I'll go get some water and be back. You two stay right there."

Then she turned, left the room, and Ptolemy looked at me, a disbelieving look on his face.

"What?" I asked, "It was the best I could come up with on such short notice."

My master sighed and looked away from me.

"I know." He said, and I knew he disliked lying to his mother, even if it was I who was doing the lying.

I rubbed gently against his side to comfort him; the heat in him already lessening.

"It will be alright." I said, "Your mother is a smart woman, she'll figure out our secret soon, and then we won't have to lie anymore."

He reached out then, gathered me in his arms and held me against his chest where he whispered to me, his head down.

"I love you, my dearest Rekhyt, but next time, if you plan on teasing me, then please do not leave me feeling this way. I feel…empty, hollow, for some reason and I am not sure why."

"I am aware of that." I said, sighing and rubbing my head against his chest, trying to apologize without saying the word sorry.

I had made another mistake. By worrying about Kitty and how other humans would see my master, I had not finished with my teasing and had thrown his human body into disarray. This treatment had left him feeling unfulfilled, cheated, abandoned, and unless I did something soon, he would continue to feel this way.

He would forgive me for this, but he would not be able to forget. Not something like this, not unless I did something about it.

"When this whole disarray with us is cleared," I said, "I shall give you your release, I promise you."

"Do you?" he asked, his voice sounding oddly small, and I stretched myself up so my head was near his and I whispered softly, swearing my oath to him.

"Yes, I shall claim you tomorrow night, this I promise."

He shivered lightly, held me tight and then told me, his voice stronger,

"Tomorrow, I would like to stop the rumors. The lies will only cause more pain, and it is about time they were disposed of."

"Do you have a plan to stop them?" I asked, and he smiled in a way that set the fur on the back of my neck stand up.

"Yes," he said with that smile on his face, "I do."

"Well," I mused, "As long at it's not something too crazy."

"It will work." He said, "I am sure it will."

He finally looked up at me, looking determined and strong.

"Please have some faith in my plans, my friend," he said, smiling gently, "You shall probably enjoy tomorrow just as much as I will, of that I am certain."

Soon after this Kitty came back with a glass of water and a couple of small wet towels and began to help her son relief him of his "fever" while I could only watch, watching the boy whom I called my lover, his words echoing inside of my essence.

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Ancient Egyptian Translation

Renpet - Year

Hesy mes - Wretched child

Hekau - Magician

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The next chapter shall be coming soon but in the mean time please review and I shall see you later.


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